Posts tagged moving forward
Eyes in the Dark

When I close my eyes to sleep, and all is quiet, and all I can hear is the sound of my breathing in the dark, I see him. Two black eyes glinting in the night. One smile, too white and too wide, unmistakable above me. I open my eyes in a panic, fear crushing my chest, paralysing my limbs and he is still there, looming above me in the shadows. I reach desperately for my phone. Light blinds me. I blink a few times as the image of a dog pops up on the screen.

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Why We Came

When they ask me, I tell them we came for the rain.

It’s easy that way. It makes them laugh. It’s the dog walkers who always want to know. A passing conversation in the park. They usually talk about Mochi’s long legs first. Like a mom with a new baby, I let them gush over him. No, he’s not a puppy, just small. Yes, he’s enthusiastic. I tell them he’s a rescue and an immigrant too. He was my carry-on luggage, stored safely below the seat in front of me from San Francisco to Dublin. We linger for a few minutes, as our dogs take the time to sniff. Then they ask, they always ask, why did we come?

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I Knew He Was Broken and I Married Him Because of It

During our engagement, his adoptive mother asked me why I was committing to a broken man. But that came later. At seventeen, I had only just fallen in love with Donald and was miserable about leaving him behind for a three-week trip to Europe with my mother and sister. I consoled myself by buying postcards in each new town, and writing “I love you” in the local language: “Jeg elsker deg” from Oslo. “Jeg elsker dig” from Copenhagan. “Jeg älskar dig” from Stockholm.

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