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.

Join me Tuesday for some live radio — if you can stomach an hour of me
To see how I’ve changed over time, notice which women I’ve fallen for
Beauty and love are all around us if our eyes and hearts are open to them
New segregation: Why do some people cling to racial politics?
Ruthless impersonal judgment is typical tool of cultural conformity
Telling others how to escape is easier than setting myself free
Smallest ray of hope can make us feel a change we need is coming