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.

I’ve struggled to finally believe there’s more than one ‘right way’
Death of stranger’s dog reminds me how much dogs mean to us
What is your measure of success? For me, meaning keeps changing
When we feel we’ve lost control, our behavior stops making sense
Let’s try a candid conversation just for the few who want to hear
It’s time to kick the arrogance of ‘American exceptionalism’ to curb
It’s official: U.S. government debt no longer gets top rating from S&P