PG Rated Morning

This morning, during what was becoming a regular mad dash to work, I came upon a guy looking for his dog in our apartment building. Apparently, his dog rushed out while they were on the elevator and at that precise moment when the doors were about to close. He also didn't have the presence of mind to quickly check which floor the dog ran off to, so now he was forced to go through each floor of the building to look for his pet. 

Riddles

It was the glance I think, which summarized our relationship. Half-imploring, and remarkably opposed to the seemingly cool and confident words coming out of your mouth. And I realized how to say what needs to be said can sometimes be the most impossible thing in the world. To say the words directly requires the acceptance of responsibility, and the idea that one is responsible for the truths one speaks can be daunting. It requires one to be sincere, and in some instances, to be vulnerable. And who wants to be vulnerable? It just opens you up to pain. So we spoke in a language that operated in two spheres: "How was your day? The food is lovely," to mask the words we refuse to speak aloud, but which we also hope would be understood. (I love you. Never leave me.)

We spoke in riddles to disconnect meaning from our mouths, instead hoping for a relationship that transcended language, that transcended spirit, that transcended us.

Indecision

I sometimes feel like my life is directed by a series of circumstances defined by inaction and indecision. You know how there are people who take charge of their lives, who grab the bull by the horns so to speak, and who force things to happen? I used to think I was one of those people, except upon further reflection, I fear that I'm not. I have the distinct feeling I've just been floating along, mindlessly doing nothing and letting the currents in my life take me to wherever it will take me.

Three Stories

“I left him because he was cheating on me.”