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I sit in an air-conditioned car, parked on a residential street on a peaceful Sunday night. The neighborhood, quiet. Alone, I open Facebook. A post appears. I stare at it. My heart sinks like an anchor dragging it down to the pit of my stomach. I scan through the pictures. Beautiful and suffocating in the same breath. I'm not surprised, per se. Just. Heartbroken. I can trace our friendship back to the day we met. Seventh-grade homeroom. A science lab. She sat across from me -

Flattery will get you everywhere. Another first, and complimentary, message appears on my mobile screen of the dating app. “We want different things,” he continues, “but you should know you’re beautiful. How’s the dating scene for you? Are you going on a lot of dates?” I open his profile, first discovering he’s in Somerville, Massachusetts. Second, he doesn’t have a pet. In my mind, I dismiss him. It’s a Saturday afternoon and I’m taking off the protective seals and tape from

I dance around the kitchen to the likes of Cross-Canadian Ragweed, Bleu Edmondson, and Shane Smith and the Saints clearing space for the new appliances that are set to arrive tomorrow. I sip wine and mimic moves I remember from “Dirty Dancing,” while getting lost in my thoughts. I recently decided to return to the online dating scene with a different mindset than last year, which I reiterated, continuously, to my mom after her “Brandy” reached an unusually high pitch. This ye

He came through the side door as if it were any other day. It wasn’t. He was dressed like he just came home from a pickup game of basketball in 1985 Philadelphia. He wore dirty silver athletic shorts and a charcoal gray sweatshirt cut off at the sleeves to make a t-shirt. His sneakers lacked shoelaces. He carried them in with his wallet and keys. He appeared tired and worn out. Days later he left. In the months that followed, I waited for his return. In the simple moments, I

He darts onto the stage like a star basketball player taking the court for the championship game. More than two-thousand fans cheer his entrance – claps and hollers feed his ego. The venue lights illuminate his larger-than-life presence. For a minute, I forget his little stature and am hypnotized by his colorful Nike swooshes. He wears dark jeans, an Ivy cap, and a Chris Jericho graphic t-shirt. He’s dressed better than the majority of the audience who look like they came str

The air is dense and heavy on my shoulders. Yes, the news was good and I am relieved. But now, after three weeks of waiting, the feelings, that were pushed down for too many months, are rising to the surface. I think back to last summer and twice before when I faced insurmountable trauma – she died. Then, he did. My two heroes. I never anticipated living in a world without them, but in eleven years, they both left. She, murdered. A terrorist attack. One of thousands of casual

We sit at the bar on red, round-cushioned stools closest to the entrance. A Guinness is in front of her and a hard cider is in my grasp. The dark wood counter is shiny. An impressive number of liquors resides on shelves behind it. The room is narrow. Small tables with seats decorate the other side of the room. A natural aisle is between the two setups. There’s only standing room as a pack of young, well-dressed professionals drift between cliques. Behind me are two women buil

“Ok” One word. No punctuation. I’m inexplicably hollow. Yet, I caused the response. It happened because of me. Because I wanted it. We weren’t in a relationship or situationship. We weren’t friends. Heck, we never met, not in person. Our conversations were shallow and often covered a recap of our work days and the weather. He sometimes hinted he wanted to ask me out, but I dreaded it and avoided encouraging him. Yet, I wanted him to at the same time. Under one condition: I wa

A brisk breeze touches my face, showing me the ageless urban architecture below. Beautiful stone masonry. Soot-stained buildings, chimney pots that were once a sign of wealth and prestige. Historic landmarks and the streets where avid readers could envision Jamie Fraser and Rubeus Hagrid walking. Bundled in layers, a winter jacket, and a tartan scarf of my ancestry, I bask in its glory; first in silly poses as we take photos of each other. Then, as I sit on the edge of the hi

The plan is simple: Kiss a Scottish man. The plan is simple: Fly into Dublin, rent a car, find a place to stay overnight. We arrive in Scotland’s most populous city following a battle with late-day traffic. Porters take our luggage and escort us into a luxurious hotel overlooking the River Clyde. Crisp springtime air welcomes us to a new adventure. Inside our plush room, the sun beats against the high-rise tall window. I take in the room’s amenities before venturing toward a

Sitting on an airport bench in a bustling terminal, I resign myself to a semi-spontaneous overnight in Baltimore. My carry-on luggage, game-changing butt bolster, and neck pillow crowd me like a trench as I peruse the internet for a reasonably-priced hotel stay. Around me, throngs of teenagers munch on fast food and laugh with their friends, while a smaller group of adults plot a strategy. It must be a school trip. Elsewhere, parents sit with their children. The grownups appe

Like ball bearings in a pinball machine, the airplane bounces, lurches, and jerks. The real-life rollercoaster causes audible gasps and groans as its riders’ stomachs figuratively drop. I offer my hand and the stranger across the aisle squeezes it. His grip fluctuates in rhythm to the aircraft’s movements. Tiny pulsations as the plane maintains its rightful place on the atmospheric highway, and a death grip as the metal tube hits a pothole in the sky. I offer reassurance as h

When I met him, he was a scrawny boy with blonde hair and a Cheshire cat grin. We dated and broke up within the same month. Years passed when we reunited as friends hanging out at the local townie bar. He pulled me aside and apologized for his actions all those years ago. In the coming years, we saw less of each other. Our lives taking different directions. Like ebbs and flows, we reconnected and drifted away. He passed away just a few weeks ago. Occupational cancer, they sai

Rage still bubbles beneath the surface. It’s no longer the volcano threatening to spew molten lava, but rather a hot spring searing in a sippy cup. Miraculously, the lid is tightly sealed without being warped. In its new container, neither his name nor image hold me hostage. Now, it’s a matter of accepting my role in his game. I had been hurt when I met him. Three-and-a-half years removed from divorce and fourteen months from my dad’s death. I had not been my usual self. He l

I sit, legs stretched and snuggled beneath two cozy blankets on my new-to-me oversized gray couch. A wood fire blazes before me. The scenario is reminiscent of many other evenings, but somehow tonight is different. I know it’s a supposed relevant occasion. The end of a 365-day cycle. Another rotation around the sun is complete. If it were other years, I’d be with friends. Or, scrapbooking alone in another space while my someone special played video games in the living room. H

Detachment came, but not neatly or with a bow as I had craved. I expected it in early October when the third closing cleared and funds were dispersed. But it didn't happen. Then, when the first bonfires I built ignited and blazed in the fireplace, I was sure it would come. It didn't. Lastly, when the house thermostat dropped below sixty degrees and no one complained, I was convinced this was it. It wasn't. Frankly, his words haunted me. Following his arrest, he nonchalantly s

I look out to the front yard and sigh. It’s June. Little has changed. My lawn looks as it did last autumn, winter, and early spring. Two...

“Congratulations, Brandy,” he says, shaking my hand. “You have three days to change your mind, but no one ever does.” Several business...

“Do you still love me?” I know the answer. Intellectually, emotionally, psychologically, genuinely, and even matter-of-factly. Yet, he...

Curiosity. That’s what he said. He had long ago accepted his issues and succumbed to defeat. Despite begging, pleading, and continuous...