This is my final letter to you and one I will not be sending.
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If trees are spiritual entities, perhaps they would be able to give me some sage advice.
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How was I supposed to be gay but not “act like it?”
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The second his feet hit the carpet, he dropped his duffle and pulled me in. His hands mussed my hair as I pressed my forehead against his chest. He smelled like home and rest, and I forgot that I had been worried in the first place.
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There are moments in life that evoke intense feelings of fear, awe, or sexual desire. These instances may be accompanied by the tightening of tiny muscles under the skin. This is Love Bites, Goosebumps edition.
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Was I not the rhododendron, too, fatally and beautifully enmeshed in a web of depraved souls all looking for the same things?
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My disdain for “pete davidson” was definitely, to some degree, rooted in jealousy. It’s a song one could only write under the spell of a gloriously messy love affair.
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I was doing this for me, and that’s what mattered at the end of the day. I was putting on my oxygen mask before trying to help my neighbor.
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A pandemic-era career shift from horses to bondage gear? That was something I’d have never heard of back in San Francisco.
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