Category memoir

the day you died.

I’m not really sure what happened the day you died. I don’t know where I was or what I was doing. I didn’t find out until months later. I was working, I had made a joke about when you don’t see someone for awhile you think they died. Then you popped into my head. I […]

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All My Stories Live In The Sky

“Would you do it all over again?” I ask. But I don’t ask. I’m always doing this, saying things I never say. It’s always some question, some statement, that would make a difference. But I keep it in my mind. I can’t push it to my lips. I hold it back. I say it over […]

House of the Spirits

I’m holding this book in my hands. “House of the Spirits” by Isabel Allende. It’s a used copy that I bought at Green Apple Books in San Francisco on Clement. I love finding books there. I love old used books. I love finding notes in the margins. I love finding old receipts stuck inbetween the pages. […]

It Was Never Written

I want to say I don’t fantasize romantic notions. But I’m the queen of romantic notions. I play out situations that couldn’t even possibly exist. Nothing hurts more than the realization of things that could not possibly exist. I think thats what hurts the most when I think about her, or the lack of her. […]

You Don’t Heal Well

“You don’t heal well.” This is what the nurse tells me as she squeezes my surgical incision. As I wince at the pain I know I’m going to take that comment to heart. That its going to mean far more to me than she meant it to be. I don’t heal well. I might just […]