Who We Are

Kevin and I have known each other since my late teens, we dated, casually, I was so intimidated by him I eventually stopped returning his phone calls. My first memory of Kevin is inside of a common area of a church; we are both volunteers for an after-school program for under-resourced students. Kevin is standing around with a basketball cupped by his side. Exuding inspirational, coach-like leadership, in a nearly commercial like quality, I notice him, but I don't recall what our very first conversation was about. Forcing Kevin to go on romantic picnics on the lake and dinners downtown did not yield much of anything meaningful back from me. Kevin will say we were formally boyfriend and girlfriend, but my memory does not recall that formality either.  Mutual friendships kept us in onesie, twosie, every now and then contact. This contact was usually him rebuffing my inquiries and changing his attention toward another person. I didn’t blame him. Yet, my feeling for him stayed with me,...

Five years ago today I woke with the unsettled feeling in my stomach that there was no way to turn back, that I had passed some finite invisible line and was now stuck. I washed my face, looked at the dark circles under my eyes, ready to face the most diplomatic day of my life. We assembled promptly at the Civic Center at 8:00 am, nine hours before I was to be wed. I had curated this day for months, pouring myself like water into a vessel, into this empty event. A facade I had been building for months, was cracking like some 19th century romantic tragedy. I am every flawed protagonist wrapped in veils of sadness, floating around on my own wisps of lies.  These carefully arranged moments of deception, are meticulously hidden by a glowing bride to be. Dozens of fragrances linger in the air, warm and inviting. Guest tables line the Hall, complimented by the Art Nouveau architecture and baubles. Smells waft from the kitchen, suggesting a hearty meal, and the guests begin ...