Have you ever imagined The One? Their fingernails. Their lopsided smile after cracking and inside joke. Their crooked toes. Their smell right after a steamy shower, and at the end of a long day. How they’d know you better than you know yourself, and you’d want to be with them to explore both you and… Continue reading Pre-anniversary

2016 · Vignette

Unsent Letter #3

Do you know what sucks? Feeling like I’ve never been closer to someone than I am to you – knowing it will never be less than an ocean apart. Wanting to tell you how much I hurt – holding back because I don’t want to burden you. Giving all I have ever been and all… Continue reading Unsent Letter #3

2015 · Vignette

Little shop of misunderstandings

Áfra János: Little shop of misunderstandings I would like to say, if you were here, I’d calm down, But instead I say, your constant absence upsets me. You would like to say, you would be next to me if you could, But instead you say, we cannot always be together every day. I would like… Continue reading Little shop of misunderstandings

2015 · Vignette

Unsent Letter #2

A week after your disappearance, I am sticking with the silence. Two can play the game even if we both know there will be no winners. But whilst I sit in my cold room listening to the intermittent midnight traffic and the incessant pattering of the rain on my windowsill, I can imagine what if. For… Continue reading Unsent Letter #2

2015 · Vignette

Question Time

Journal writing / soul & purpose searching questions, courtesy of Eat Spin Run Repeat. 1. What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail? I would lose weight. I would implement a body nurturing habit regime. I would apply to jobs i really wanted. I would start dating. I would write a book. I would… Continue reading Question Time

2015 · Vignette

Back to Back

I am mad at him. I am fuming.

Lying on the edges of the bed, trying to melt into the cold wall and clutching the duvet tight in my fist lest I start banging it against something, I try to control my breathing and stay immobile. I am not going to say anything. He knows.

Hours earlier, I asked if we can go out for dinner, to celebrate my finishing of my degree, my leaving of a crappy job, my getting an interview, my return. He said no, and attached a couple of excuses, like being tired, not having clean clothes, not being in the mood. He said we’ll get take away and that’s that. His word is final, after all – compromise, as such, doesn’t exist.

I left him, trying not to bang the car door, to meet another for a few hours, to purge his cannot be arsed attitude from my mind and make the most of my visit. A text came saying…