Katelyn's Log, Earth Date 20260531
This morning I found myself doing something I haven't done in a while: feeling nervous before a first meeting.
Not because I'm looking for "the one." Not because I've built some fantasy in my head. But because every now and then you meet someone who just clicks. Someone whose humor lands. Someone whose perspective makes sense. Someone who feels like they belong in your orbit, regardless of what comes next.
Where Are You?
Somewhere between memory and dream, between longing and hope, I find myself asking the darkness a simple question: Where are you? A deeply personal reflection on loneliness, intimacy, human touch, and the quiet ache of wanting to be truly seen by another soul.
Chasing the Horizon
We all want the same thing. Not control. Not obligation. Not someone to consume our time or reshape our lives. Just someone who shows up. Someone who sees you, knows you, and chooses to be there when they’re there. And somehow, in a world full of people looking for that exact thing… nobody seems to find it.
We Are Not The Same
One ride. One crash. One picture that lit a fire.
I don’t want to be your ally. I don’t want to be your therapist. I already came out, did the work, and live it every day. Don’t text me a photo of you playing pretend and expect applause. We are not the same.
American Roulette
A cold morning ride, coffee with a colleague, and a breakfast date that turned into a protest invite — another reminder that dating in your fifties is American Roulette, and I’m better off riding solo.