The man who gives you a back rub without your permission. The guy who stands a little too close to you on the bus, so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. The boys who joked and the men who joked and so many jokes but you were never laughing. The jokes you didn’t understand because you were too young to understand. The gut punch when you were old enough to finally get what they meant.
I am sitting here in my favorite oversized sweater that smells a little bit like beagles, but maybe that makes… Read more Stitching it back together with love
I’ve had a huge amount of crap healing work surface this past week. The kind of stuff that a year… Read more The Final Push (This Might Hurt)
I don’t know where we go from here. What I didn’t know until I attended the vigil was that it was important for me to read Ramon’s name. To cry publicly. To feel righteous anger.