The smell of his leather seats lingers in my nostrils, a scent more intoxicating than the taste of the second round of Tito’s and soda that he’d slid to me across the marble countertop just an hour before. My hands are jammed underneath my thighs while my wavy hair slides haphazardly across my cheeks. His face is glowing in the redness of the stoplight; words are patiently waiting to escape his lips. And, I want to freeze here, in the magic and the madness, before those syllables roll off of his tongue. My sister loves you. My roommate loves you. And, they don’t understand why I can’t tell... Read More

It’s 2:01am. And, I want to go to sleep. Truly, I do. But, my mind is mulling over the current state of affairs in the Supreme Court nominations. I spent the better part of this afternoon really listening to the testimonies of both sides. But, let me be clear, this post has nothing to do with politics. No, this story is about a 34-year-old female who is finding herself inside a conversation that is questioning whether or not women are truthful when it comes to explicating their experiences. And, be it good or bad, I am now finding a way to attach conscious thoughts to emotions that I felt two,... Read More