The Woman Who Gives Me Courage
It's three o'clock in the fucking morning, and I'm lying in bed listening to Dawna breathe, wondering how I got so lucky. Yesterday, she spent the entire day beside me at a book festival, supporting my dream of becoming an author, encouraging me to step outside my comfort zone, and reminding me what it feels like to be genuinely loved. Sometimes the most extraordinary thing in your life is the person sleeping right beside you.
One Fucking Year
One year ago, an evening motorcycle ride left me broken on Cerrillos Road. Broken bones, surgeries, months of rehabilitation, and nights spent crying when nobody was watching. But somewhere in the hardest fucking year of my life, I found love, purpose, and something I hadn't truly possessed before: a sense of my own worth. I'm not grateful for the accident. I'm grateful I survived it.
The List
Almost a year after the motorcycle crash, I showed Dawna the list of everything that had been broken, torn, punctured, crushed, or otherwise fucked up that night. I expected her to understand what I survived. I wasn't expecting the fucking list to remind me how much of it I'm still carrying.