Holding Pattern
You can be excited about where you're going and still grieve what you're leaving. Both things can be true. Right now, we're somewhere between what was and what comes next, surrounded by hotel coffee, storage units, trucks, and shitty Wi-Fi. The emergency has passed. The rebuilding is beginning. And we're doing it together.
Apparently, Talking Isn't Always Helping
I fucking love this woman, and when she's frustrated, every instinct inside me wants to fix things. Turns out, sometimes helping isn't solving. Sometimes helping isn't talking. Sometimes helping is finding some shade, drinking some fucking water, and shutting the hell up. Apparently, loving someone means learning that too.
Apparently, I'm a Victim Now
Apparently, writing about shitty things that happen to you means you've embraced a victimhood mentality. Except there's a pretty fucking important difference between acknowledging what happened and surrendering your agency because it happened. Sometimes you're a victim of circumstance. Sometimes somebody genuinely does something shitty to you. That's where the story begins. What you do next is the part that matters.
Fucking Waiting
I know exactly what I need to do. Pack my bag on Nyx, point north, and go get the woman I love. There's no complicated decision to make and no problem left to analyze. There's just one problem: somewhere in Santa Fe, a perfectly decent stranger is sleeping peacefully while my driver's license sits on his kitchen counter. And so I wait.
The Best Laid Plans
Sometimes the best weekends are the ones where absolutely nothing goes according to plan. A delayed motorcycle seat, a brutal ride across Colorado, missed events, and a chance conversation around a circle of folding chairs reminded me that life has a habit of changing the destination while you're still focused on the map.
Naked
Why is it easier for us to get naked than it is to tell someone how we actually feel? Somewhere along the way, we've convinced ourselves that exposing our hearts is more dangerous than exposing our bodies. Maybe it's time we started having the hard conversations before we need a bottle of whiskey to find the courage.
The Loudest Guy in the Room
Sometimes the loudest guy in the room isn't the smartest. He's just the one who can't stand being ignored. After one too many encounters with men who mistake ego for competence, I found myself wondering why confidence so often replaces capability, and why the people worth listening to rarely have to raise their voices.
Forever
Sometimes the people who think they know your story know the least about it. While searching for what might become our forever home, an unexpected text dredged up old assumptions, old accusations, and old ghosts. Instead of reminding me of the past, though, it reminded me just how far Dawna and I have come, and how lucky I am to be building a future with the woman I love.
Competence Isn't Amazon Prime
Watching the morning crowd shuffle through a hotel breakfast got me thinking about something bigger than powdered eggs and mediocre sausage. Somewhere along the way, we've stopped learning how to do things for ourselves. We've outsourced competence, and I think we've lost something important in the process.
Two Truths
Love isn't finding someone who always agrees with you. It's finding someone whose perspective is different enough to challenge your own, and caring enough to listen when you get it wrong. Our first disagreement wasn't a crack in the foundation. It was another brick laid with honesty, humility, and a willingness to grow together.
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.
Closer to Closure?
I didn’t call her for revenge. I called because I wanted to finish something. To look her in the eye and say the words that would finally let me walk away.
I Got It Right
I’m not smiling because I wrote a book. That’s just mile marker one. You don’t celebrate at mile marker one, you keep walking. You build strength. You send a signal to the universe that you’re not done. I’m smiling because I got the message right… and it’s landing.
Fire, Fracture, and the Finish Line
My book is so goddamned close. And So, She Rose didn’t come together in a straight line. It came together through death, through failure, through pain, and finally, through fire. Turns out, sometimes the ending of your story doesn’t come from inspiration… it comes from impact.
A Night for Broken Hearts
Sometimes the deepest heartbreaks are the ones you can’t explain. The ones you have to carry quietly, because telling the truth would destroy someone else’s life. So you sit with the pain, question everything you thought you understood about love, and ask God why the tests never seem to end.