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Ordinary Things

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The first time Evan realized he might be in trouble, Mia’s son was trying to build a castle out of french fries. Not a metaphorical castle. An actual structural project. Two fries stood vertically against a ketchup packet while a third balanced across the top like a load-bearing beam. The whole thing had approximately the engineering integrity of a folding chair in a hurricane. Mia looked at the table and sighed. “I swear I feed him.” Evan watched the kid add another fry. “I don’t think this is food anymore. I think he’s applying for a zoning permit.” Mia laughed hard enough to cover her mouth. That laugh did it. Not in some cinematic, violins-playing, this is the woman I’m going to marry kind of way. Nothing that dramatic. He just looked across the table at her and thought: I like this. The three of them had spent the afternoon wandering through stores, arguing about snacks, losing money to arcade machines, and listening to a four-year-old explain several things that were ...
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More Than a Possibility

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If all I can give you in this lifetime is friendship, then I want to give you the best friendship I can. Not the kind that only exists while hope is still alive.  Not the kind that quietly packs its bags the moment "more" becomes "less." The kind that remembers your favorite coffee. The kind that notices when your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. The kind that answers the phone, shows up when life gets heavy, and celebrates the little victories that nobody else notices. Because you're more than just a possibility to me. You were never a prize to be won, or a question waiting for the right answer. You became someone whose laugh could change the mood of an ordinary day, someone whose happiness felt worth protecting, whether it ever belonged to me or not. People talk as if friendship is what remains when love doesn't happen. I don't believe that. Sometimes friendship is love that chose not to make demands. It's choosing to stay witho...
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I’m Not Looking for Attention. I’m Looking for Intention.

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I think people sometimes get the wrong idea about me because of the things I write and post. Someone recently told me that some of my content can come across as clingy or desperate. And I’ve thought about that a lot, because yes, I write about loneliness. I write about wanting people in my life. I write about friendship, relationships, crushes, rejection, vulnerability, and wanting someone to talk to. But I’m not desperate for attention. What I’m looking for is intention. There’s a difference. I don’t need somebody texting me every day or being available all the time. I don’t need instant replies or constant contact. People have jobs, kids, energy levels, stress, and sometimes a text just… gets forgotten. I get that. What I’m trying to understand is whether there’s an intentional effort to be in each other’s lives, or whether we just sort of exist in the same orbit by convenience. Because friendship, to me, requires some intention. Maybe you don’t text much, but every so of...
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Everyone Talks About the Adventure. Nobody Talks About the Goodbyes...

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Whenever people find out I grew up in a military family, they almost always have the same reaction. "That must've been awesome." And they're right. I've seen places most people only dream about. I've walked through Rome, stood on the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast, wandered Capri and Anacapri, watched master glassblowers at work in Italy, snowboarded in Roccaraso, explored Okinawa's aquarium, and driven across the United States more times than I can remember. I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. But whenever people tell me how lucky I was, I can't help but think... You're only seeing half the story. Nobody talks about the goodbyes. When your parent is in the military, your life runs on a countdown. Three years. Sometimes a little longer. Sometimes a little shorter. You learn the streets. You learn the school. You make friends. You finally start feeling like you belong. Then someone hands your parents new orders. The boxes co...
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Being Liked Isn't the Same as Being Chosen

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There's a strange kind of loneliness that no one really prepares you for. It's not the loneliness of being disliked. It's the loneliness of realizing that people can genuinely enjoy your company, laugh at your jokes, hug you when they see you, ask how you've been... and still never think to include you in their day. That realization doesn't happen all at once. It sneaks up on you. One day you notice that your phone hasn't buzzed all afternoon. Then you realize it hasn't buzzed much all week. You send a meme to someone because it reminded you of them. They leave it on read. You wake up on Saturday morning, glance at your notifications, and there isn't a single message asking what you're up to. Not because anyone is angry with you. Not because you've done anything wrong. Just... because. When we're young, friendship is built on proximity. School puts us together. Sports put us together. We spend entire summers wandering neighborhood...
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Where it still feels like home...

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People tell you not to dwell on the past. I understand why. You can't live there. You can't change it. You can't build tomorrow by staring at yesterday. But they never tell you what to do when yesterday is where all the people still are. You look back and every empty space in your life used to be occupied. Weeknights weren't quiet. Weekends weren't something to survive. There was always a phone call, a friend knocking at the door, a last minute plan, a reason to leave the house. Back then, you complained you were bored. Now you'd give almost anything to be that bored again. The funny thing about getting older is that life doesn't just take people away. It teaches you. It teaches you not to spend money you don't have. It teaches you to be careful with your heart. It teaches you that some risks aren't worth taking twice. Little by little, you become wiser. Little by little, you become smaller. Payday used to mean possibility. Now it means b...
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A Glimpse

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I met this woman that I really admire. She's sweet. She's smart. She's strong. And I admire her in ways I don't think she understands. I'm glad we met. I'm glad we've talked and gotten to know each other, even if only a little. But at the same time... I'm saddened by the thought that she's been scarred and hurt so many times in ways that should have never happened to begin with. Especially by people who looked at her and told her they cared. I'm not a perfect man. I make mistakes. I always will. But unfortunately... to some degree or another... I have to carry their sins. Because at this point, she doesn't want a relationship. She doesn't miss it. She doesn't want it. And I understand why. Who would miss being in a relationship when most of the relationships you've been in have been controlling... manipulative... abusive? Who wants to go back to something that's hurt them more often than it's loved them? Who wa...
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