Stories heard from the otherside

To say that dating in my 30s has been interesting would be barely scratching the surface. Swipe this, post that, drinks here, judgements there. It's all been one giant conglomeration of tired eyes and woeful thoughts. Most of my dating career has been long drawn out endeavors even before the "marriage" and now post Adriane my outlook has morphed even stronger. From the jump I never really wanted to get married, I had my own design on what marriage truly is and as much as I'd like to think it was me foreshadowing the inevitable divorce I wasn't jumping head first into it.  Now almost 35 I'm not quite to Alabama governor signing away relationship rights but edging myself closer and closer.  I've spent the bulk of my life pining for or pushing the needs of others in front of my very own and playing myself the martyr. But in reality it was just my own inability to make decisions, or be truly fortitude in my beliefs. So now I stand single, I've taken more s...

I remember the day that death finally grasped me by the shoulders and sat me down, not unlike a wise old man laying down some heavy advice to his young prodginy.  It was the summer of 2002 and my sister had casually called me to let me know what was going on, and at that time I had spent so much energy to avoid knowing these things. I had spent months escaping any confines that predicated family. Disappearing from my house like a farts in the wind. I was a ghost who just happened to have a bed. I had never gone to the hospital, never asked a single question, really spent months subconsciously created a timeline without a mom. Some sort of planned attack on reality, guerilla warfare on the future. I created as many memories as I could never once checking the sky to see if it was truly falling. Ignorance can mask pain and stubbornness can delay it. I was a master at both, painting a smile on my face with creativity. So until that call I really had no idea, rather I had so many other ...