My poor boy is sick. I feel just awful that I am all the way in New York, when I am clearly needed in Connecticut. Poor Zachary. I really hope that he gets well soon because nothing is worse than being sick, except for being sick in the summer. The reason I am writing is… Continue reading Fifteen minutes and it is 3 a.m.
Do we write so the loneliness doesn't hurt so bad? Is it more of a pinch or like a slap across the face? The pounds increase; no one wants the fat girl, so she writes. She writes to keep the nights from feeling so hard. The nights are easy; it's the daytime that hurts. There… Continue reading Why Do We Write?
I am getting fatter. My fat girl pants are just pants; fat day shirts are just shirts. I need to put an end to the weight gain, but how do I take control when I am so far gone?