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My Love
In the morning your eyes pink from sleep gaze at me. Your long curly eyelashes surround a mystery – hazel windows to your soul. There is substance there, in your eyes – a depth I want to explore. You lean over for a kiss I’m hesitant to give. Morning breath, I explain. You don’t care. Your thin lips feel surprisingly full and soft on my mouth. They turn down at the corners – forever locked in sadness. On the night table stands a photograph of you as a boy. “This is the boy who will grow up to be the man I love,” I think. Your eyes so bright and…
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My Love/Hate Relationship with Writing
Writing is hard. If you write, maybe you have a love-hate relationship with writing too. As difficult as writing is for me, it has been a big part of my life. I started writing in journals and writing short stories and bad poetry at a young age. I did it for myself – because I felt compelled to. Writing was my refuge of sorts, a way to express my personal thoughts and feelings. A way to be creative. But my relationship with writing changed significantly when I attended university. The stress and anxiety of writing academic papers and foolishly pinning my self-worth on earning high grades worsened my perfectionist tendencies. …
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Feeling Alone During the Pandemic
Another day. Another day that looks the same as the ones preceding it. I can hardly tell the days apart anymore. Does it really matter? I spend most days alone. Loneliness in a pandemic feels different somehow. I can’t quite articulate why, but there’s an invisible weight present. Is it that there’s another layer of uncertainty in the air? The longing for connection seems more impassable and out of reach. The physical barriers between us, the newly learned way of keeping our distance from each other, add to the feeling of disconnect and isolation. But it’s crucial for my mental and emotional health to leave the confines of my home.…