we walked here, in the same place you now stand, through a uttar pradeshian summer, the two of us, hand-in-hand until we could no longer.still we walked near one another, separated by it, yet kept close because of it. we learned about this place, hearing how it and a lack of water drove them from here. we both understood then, why otherwise…
didn’t think about it
i thought about it from time to time, but i wasn’t sure i’d ever come across it again. i had a vague sense of where it was, but it’s not like i i really end up near this place all that often. so the memory could have remained just that. i’ve gone much further to find the places i’ve wanted to rediscover, and this one is so…
i didn’t think about it
i thought about it from time to time, but i wasn’t sure i’d ever come across it again. i had a vague sense of where it was, but it’s not like i i really end up near this place all that often.so the memory could have remained just that. i’ve gone much further to find the places i’ve wanted to rediscover, and this one is so…
written words
today, someone asked me what i do. when i told her she asked, “how do you come up with them?” “i don’t know,” i said. “i can’t make them stop.”and it reminded me that i used to wonder, are there enough of them? they seemed so hard to come by before that moment, but now, they’re as plentiful as the rays of light blanketing los…
circles
not long after the darkness fell upon us, i came up with an arbitrary goal… wear them one day longer than her. but this wasn’t the first time i let some unspoken goal determine my behavior. no, giving myself a personal challenge that eventually becomes a near obsessive compulsive disorder, this is a problem i’ve always had. like that…
not gone
there, where they used to be, is a thin line, dug deep into my skin, one that only i can see, a reminder that they’re still there even if they’re not where they used to be. that line will not be there forever, but the mark they left on me will remain until i breathe no longer.
working and happy
it is late and i’m still awake, a fit of creativity has settled upon my brain, and has translated into eight fingers and two thumbs, working to pound out the words i’ve struggled to find.tonight i spoke to one of my best friends in the world, and she cried for us. happy tears, knowing, evident in the smile in my photos, the words that i write…
and then there’s this
Happiness has pervaded my life, before, during and after my time with liz. and since she died, it’s been my friends and family and stranger friends and music and books and travel and writing and memories and photography and baseball and cheeseburgers and beer and this blog and countless other things that have all been huge sources of happiness…
here
i’ve been here, in this place. but when? was it twenty five years ago? maybe eight? yesterday?no. it was thirteen years ago. and it was almost four years ago. i was here. she was here we. we were here. but it was different. thirteen years ago it was an awkward meal with people who didn’t know me. but she made it comfortable, even fun. ……
a voice
on my stomach, the pillow over my head, right ear pressed to the mattress. i can hear her voice resonating through the springs below,the vibration reducing the words to nothing more than a mumble. the voice, unmistakable, but she’s not in the room. …
where’s my towel?
for the second time in less than a week there was no towel waiting for me when i got out of the shower.why? because i left the damn thing hanging on the door knob in my bedroom. first instinct, still, 13+ months after she died was to yell, “hey liz! can you please bring me a towel?” fuck. when does that go away? the fact that i left my…
new refrigerator
i bought a new refrigerator a couple of weeks ago to replace the one that had been fixed twice and was still leaking water all over my floor.a few days before it was delivered i looked at the old one and realized i needed to clean it. both the inside and the outside needed cleaning so i removed the photos, wedding invitations, recipes, and…