I Choose You.

Jordan proposed on the morning of Saturday, December 17, 2016 amidst the cat condo and stray socks in the living room of his one-bedroom apartment. As he sautéed sweet potatoes…

Love Letter.

In 9th grade, I wrote a love letter to a boy. I imagine it was entirely dramatic—depicting my teenage longing and the color of his eyes with gag-inducing metaphors—but genuinely heartfelt, and honest nonetheless….

Therapy.

The journey to her couch took six weeks of suffering before I arrived. I claimed one corner and pulled my knees to my chest, effectively shrinking myself to a pathetic dot….

Photo by Anna Sastre

Pronounce the I.

Thesaurus.com and I were on good terms, until I plunked “self-love” in its search bar and it retorted with “narcissism” and “vainglory.” Then we broke up.

Mixed Feelings.

I met him in a room filled with words handwritten by the lonely and the suffering, unaware that eventually, I’d thread him through my own pages, weaving the fabric of…

The Cosmos.

A handmade lunar calendar hangs plainly in my kitchen. It’s composed of black ink pressed deep into thick cotton paper. Each month spirals into itself like a snail’s shell, displaying daily…

V-Day.

As a uniquely named child, I lost when it came to one of life’s cheaper thrills; monogrammed heart keychains. Dig as I may through the spinning tower of trinkets, I…

Kiss Well.

Ladies and gentlemen, snag your lip balm and ready your smackers—holiday season is upon us. Between an opportune mistletoe encounter, or a New Year’s Eve spit-swap at the stroke of…

Forgiven.

It is inevitable that the people I love the most will disappointment or hurt me. This statement is not rooted in pessimism—it’s a statistical fact. Those with unlimited access to…