write life

Comfortable silence

I like the way the palms of your hands felt pressed against my ears. You had never kissed me standing up before, not really. Not like that. Not with your fingers in my hair and my head tilted back and in a way that put cracks in all the walls I’ve been building: soft, but certain. My hair was wet from the shower and I wore a blue ducky robe I received as a teen, but you kissed me like a man who knows what he wants and I knew that I didn’t want you to leave and my lips were begging for you to stay and your body language was saying, “See you real soon, babe.” and somehow with no words at all you said everything I needed to hear.



less is not always more 

“What would make you perfectly content with your life?”

I didn’t know the answer or where to find it. I felt then as I do now, that I could have the entire world in the palm of my hand and still, not only want, but expect more. Perhaps that’s how we should all feel in our twenties, maybe it’s that ambition that gets us through our initiation into adulthood, and that may also very well have been the demise of every romantic relationship I’ve ever had.