Thursday, December 3, 2015. I want to talk to you about moments. I want to speak of those times when you are the perfect you. Maybe not the true you, maybe not the real you, but the perfect you. I want to talk to you about moments. I want to talk to you about moments. I want to talk to.

And then the good times were over. I was a basket of mess and hot tears for a couple hours. Still proud of myself for having such a good start to the day. Jer got home and I cried for another couple hours. He just looked at me, saying nothing because all he wanted to do was fix me somehow. I was grateful for the silence. More laundry got done thanks to Jer.

August 6, 2013 in Uncategorized. When the wind pushes you. Leave tailgating minivans small in your mirror. Slide around potholes like water sluices over river cobbles. Measure joy by the splotches on your visor. When the roar in your helmet overcomes your roaring pipes. You become your own force. Bitterness is squeezing the brake. But lean hard into the corner with open throttle. Sitting at the Gas Station Where Nothing Ever Happened.