The Suckability Scale of LDRs

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It is so hard to be this far away from you.

It sucks because you seem to be doing just fine with it.

Your ‘out of sight, out of mind’ approach is the complete

opposite of my ‘I need your voice, your face, your text daily’ approach.

 

It sucks. Level 1.

 

You have called me impatient. Continue reading →

Pushing Through: Lessons on Love from 9/11

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On this solemn day in the US, I think back to how I loved you. And how I lost you. That has permeated every relationship since then. The two events occurred years apart but, nonetheless, lessons from one helped me survive the other and have buoyed me in the years since.

As I read all these FB posts about being daring and embracing life and loving out loud those you love, my heart breaks a little. I remember where I was when the twin towers were hit. And I remember where I was when your sister called me to say you were gone.

That early morning in California, before I went to work at the hospital, I woke up as usual to Steve Harvey on morning radio. Before he got syndicated, when he was in Los Angeles. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and, like him, I assumed it was a misguided pilot of a small plane who had made a deadly mistake or error.

That day, I watched as first responders ran in as others ran out. That is a day I will never forget. I did not lose anyone I know but I watched a country that had become my home gradually change into one that I did not fully recognize. It had smatterings of paranoia and sown seeds of distrust, wrapped around a burka and a religion.

I wept that day. For the lives of all lost, for no reason that they themselves Continue reading →

Out (Of Love and Other Feelings)

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A hammer against your ribcage,

and your insides are roiling with trepidation,

as the squeeze on your heart pushes out, at last,

the final vestiges of what once bubbled over in yellow

and splashes of brilliantly hued emotions and colors.

The hammer knocks a bit out of you each time,

and, unexpectedly, your fire gets doused too every time,

as the ashes begin to pile up,

climbing up past the squeeze and Continue reading →

Home

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Sometimes home calls your name so loudly,

you cannot ignore it.

But home is different for different people.

For some, it is a place,

for others, it is a feeling.

For me, it is a hybrid of both.

California has been home for ages now,

I have always said that I was born in Kenya

but I grew up in Los Angeles.

Now, more than ever, in these Trump times,

home, with a feeling, is beckoning.

Perhaps because love awaits,

because a slow down at this time and age

seems much needed and required.

I do not know.

I am heeding the call.

Home.

Young One

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I don’t know what this is. But this was supposed to be nothing.

And yet, here we are, my heart racing, my brain giddy, my smile wide.

I am fascinated by you.

I told myself that this would be harmless. Assured myself that it was simple.

I mean, you did only pop into my mind when I viewed my contacts, preparing to delete.

Declutter was my motivation.

Your name was one of the top three, but the first for me to consider for absolute deletion.

I stared at it for a few heartbeats,

recalled where we met and then dipped into the archives.

And, it made sense, to reach out and say hey.

It was supposed to be nothing.