When I receive his text messages, I am free to write back immediately. I don’t have to calculate the appropriate read-to-respond delay ratio. (That’s a thing, right?) I don’t dig for a witty retort; I don’t second-guess. Does this sound clingy? Are capital letters too intense? I’d better go all-lowercase. I just respond.
Read MoreWhen you go to sleep in a room clouded by a heavy smog of resentment, sometimes you wake up and the space has cleared. Other times, you flutter your eyelids and think, "Am I still angry? Why yes, yes I am."
"Oh, how thrilling!” they’d burst upon discovering that Mickey Mouse signed my paychecks. “That must be so fulfilling, so magical! Your parents must be so proud!” The truth is, it was fulfilling, and they were proud, but there was something about that question, “Where do you work?” that pretzeled my insides.
Little boys, who believe with their whole hearts, bouncing around in cotton pajamas. Shimmering lights on sturdy trees. Packages cinched exquisitely with glossy, gold ribbon.