My boyfriend and I were going to the theater. I dress up and put on his gift: a set of gold earrings and a necklace. Romantic, yeah.
By the end of the first act, my ears got hurt, by the end of the second act, my neck got covered in red spots and was itching terribly. And my boyfriend looked at me and innocently said, “I thought you were just joking about allergies to imitation jewelry, and that it would do.”
For three years, my relationship with Ryan unfolded like a carefully plotted path—steady, consistent, predictable in the way that makes you believe you’re building something stable. It…
The late afternoon light always gave the bookstore an almost enchanted quality. It slipped through the old, dust-coated windows in soft beams that turned drifting particles into…
At first glance, the numbers feel like a mistake. Ninety-five acres of land. A full-sized home with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Nearly 2,700 square feet of…
On February 1, the Grammy stage shimmered with nostalgia and star power as Cher made her long-awaited return—her first appearance at the ceremony in nearly twenty years….
When the air in your bedroom feels thick and suffocating, the kind of heat that presses into your skin and makes sleep feel impossible, you start to…
The weeks after my husband passed away moved in a strange, suspended time—too heavy to be called living, too empty to be called healing. Our home, once…