Just Me
He came out to me five seconds before I came out to him and the last three years of silence suddenly seemed so wasteful.
He came out to me five seconds before I came out to him and the last three years of silence suddenly seemed so wasteful.
As a 31-year-old white male in 2008, I finally grasp the political truth in that Public Enemy cassette I rocked in 1992.
I spent three days convincing you that the rumor wasn't true while all the time wondering why I just couldn't tell you that it was.
When I saw him escort her out of his house at 8am, still in bar clothes, I realized he could never be the kind of man I want in life.
In less than 24 hours, I found out he constantly dropped ecstasy, cheated on me by sleeping with his cousin's 15 year old best friend, fooled around with his best friend's sister, and that everything I knew in this world from the man I was ready to marry was a lie.
I find fictional characters to be better than real people because fictional characters are whatever I want them to be.
Sitting at the table, I begged to be told the answer I already knew, but didn't want to hear.
Because my mother lost her faith while hiding in a circus during the Third Reich, I was raised a carnie brat, looking for true religion all over the world.
I'd rather be a tattood person than a person with tattoos.
I don't know if I have ADD, anxiety, depression, or all three, but I'm surely bulimic, probably an alcoholic, and most definitely a humanitarian.