Bare to the Elements
I spent fifty-four years learning how to protect my heart. I built walls, learned to stand alone, and eventually convinced myself I preferred it that way. Then Dawna came along, and somehow the walls disappeared. Now she's gone back to Colorado, the house feels fucking empty, and I'm discovering the other side of letting someone completely into your heart.
When Ours Becomes Mine Again
For the last several days, this house hasn't felt like mine. It's felt like ours. Her deodorant is on the counter. Her things are mixed with mine. She rearranged our bedroom. And today she's going back to Colorado. Nothing is wrong. Everything is actually incredibly fucking right. Maybe that's why watching her leave hurts so much.
The Price of Going Home
The ride home was brutal. Triple-digit heat. Relentless crosswinds. Bugs. A lost wallet somewhere in southern Colorado. And yet, not once during those long miles did I wish I hadn't gone. Some journeys are worth every inconvenience because of who's waiting at the other end.