A lot can change in 100 days. 100 days ago my friend Wayne was still alive. 100 days ago I was patiently waiting for the man I loved to work through his commitment issues so we could start our happily ever after. 100 days ago I was commuting an hour each way to a job that had long ago lost its luster, and took mine away with it. 100 days ago I was driving past all the suburban soccer moms in my neighborhood, dreaming of being like them someday. 100 days ago the pieces of me fit together differently. Continue reading
The ghost of you haunts every inch of my house. There’s no escaping it. Every time I walk through the entryway it cuts right through me. I think about how you’d come over and we’d meet at the front door 
The Misadventures of Awkward Jean 