I could’ve sworn that I’d killed her. I remember placing her limp body, all our keepsakes and memories into a wooden box and burying it all six-feet deep on a deserted planet in a galaxy far, far away. I then remember coming home to sew shut the gaping vortex in my heart, dust myself off… Continue reading The Habits of my Heart
I'm holding onto pieces of us that I just can't let go. I know this is a desperate kind of love, but it feels like it's home.