The sun will come out tomorrow.

  Right now she’s weaving in and out of unfamiliar faces, dragging a suitcase behind her. Waiting for her flight to be called. Waiting to land in the uncertainty of the weekend. She’s trying to be brave, but the lukewarm coffee sloshes in her paper cup, reminding her how utterly alone she feels. She thought this time would work….

Ground zero.

  And then we were a year and a half into our friendship and we were on the phone at 3am and I was realizing my brutal honesty was burning all of our bridges and it was too late to turn back. Because as dumb as it sounds, Pinterest and tumblr are right: You’re afraid…

Kitchen-counter church.

We broke crackers and dipped chips into salsa and port wine cheese balls, and made chamomile tea at 11pm. And we called it church. She’s roughly fifteen years older than me, but whenever we gather in her old farmhouse kitchen, the kids asleep upstairs and a pile of crayons at the corner of her counter, I…

Monday, please pick me up.

Monday, you’re hard. Especially when I come off a weekend and feel anything but rested, walking into the week with a laundry list of things (and laundry) to do and no idea if I’ll to make it through. At this point we’re all tired and need more than a two day weekend to recover. I don’t remember anyone telling…

When you return, remember to take pictures.

(the post before this one) I hadn’t been back in four months, four months since I packed up my car and left for good. I planned to visit, and I would keep to that plan, but there would be no comeback, no “I changed my mind, I’m staying.” It was final, and I was completely…

Nashville.

By the end of the weekend, the random bursts of tears in the car, the hotel room, and the restaurant, had turned to sobbing. The kind of sobbing that makes your body convulse, snot and tears mixing, the emotion turning completely physical. The girl stood in the middle of the tiny dorm room, screaming because she didn’t…

Comeback.

I remember nothing of the conversation but the last two minutes. I sat in my car outside my friend’s house, holding the phone to my ear, to this day unsure how we got to this point in the conversation. Even if I didn’t have the note saved on my phone, I’d probably still remember the date…

Come and stay awhile.

I sat in my car in the parking lot, a familiar parking lot for once, instead of a brand new place I was going to have to brave on my own. At least I’d been there before. At least I knew my way around. But that didn’t calm any of my nerves; I still didn’t…

You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.

Sometimes I wish I was brave enough to erase the first four months of blog posts on this site. I know that wouldn’t really be productive for me, and there’s not really a point either. They’re like book chapters; they document where I was, and now my new content expresses that same thing. And I…