It’s always the worst at night. I have no idea why.
That’s when the images and sounds flood my mind. It’s as though someone made a movie and I saw only the first part. I loved the movie and wanted to see all of it. I loved it so much that I wanted to live in it, but I couldn’t.
And then someone had all the images and sounds and smells and emotions from the rest of that movie — and feeds bits and pieces of them to me at random times. It’s warm and loving images of love and family and home and everything I’ve ever wanted.
There‘s a projector on the inside of my skull — and someone plays those images. What I see teases me and torments me, but I can’t make them go away. I don‘t even know whether I want them to go away.
She’s always there. But she’s not really there.

Do we choose to be free people? Or will we live as slaves to mobs?
Why did we slowly let them strip our neighborhoods of most trees?
Corrupt Trump isn’t even hiding half-billion dollar bribe anymore
Childhood programming trains us to wait for authority’s permission
I’m writing a book — and I’ll be talking about it as it progresses
To unlock your heart for real love, you must embrace vulnerability
The best romantic relationships end up becoming mutual rescue
Fear and shame can leave us in a fog that destroys relationships
Ohio high school shooting shouldn’t be excuse to take more guns away