I wish I could tell you that it goes away, that it gets better, that you'll get over it.
Every other day of the year he's dead. Today he lives in my mind. The funny smart-ass kid that bounced around when he was six and I was eleven, I was Matthew and he was Matthew but when we finally got to meet he became Little Matt and I became Big Matt. Uncle Matt is… Continue reading Ghosts With Bones
I saw him. He held a razor to his wrist, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. He kept whispering, "Just do it. Just do it. Just do it." I saw him, trying to convince himself to cut his life off, and I had no idea how to stop him, or if I should try. When… Continue reading Reaching Back
Belief has borrowed flavors, and we taste the memories of what has never come.
There is at least a small chance, still, that this life is my dream and one day I will wake to find that nothing was lost.