This Is What I Do When You’re Gone

I go to restaurants alone. I sit on the steps at Grand Central and look up at the ceiling, the only place in New York where you can see stars.

Here We Are, Trapped In The Amber Of The Moment

I am the kind of person who longs for. Who savors. Who stockpiles hotel keys, t-shirts left behind. Who saves letters not for the words they contain but for the handwriting, for the hands that brushed the page.

I Have A Kid I Don’t Deserve

She’s my best friend. No one understands me like this tiny little human does. It amazes me how much wisdom she can have at such a young age.