OnlyInMaine
Honest to Pete, he was weedwacking with a chainsaw and picking his nose, shirtless.
Honest to Pete, he was weedwacking with a chainsaw and picking his nose, shirtless.
Time stood still when the radiologist told me about the tumor, but it's spent the last six months catching up.
Nothing says "you're probably not going to engineering school now" like a teenage pregnancy.
The same day i hear my therapist say "fuck" for the first time, I learn her cat's name is Sparkles.
My first child was born on Christmas day, just in time for her great great grandfather to see her on his death bed.
I gave up on trying to compete with my brother the day he actually became a rocket scientist.
I was genuinely surprised when I learned that other kids' moms didn't forget to pick them up after school every week.
She paused, looked at the damage she had already done and realized that the only reason for not ending it all right then that came to her mind was, "You have a test on Monday that you've already studied for."
Watching my family's Christmas dinner over webcam from the ICU was somehow worse than not being there at all.
My chest hurts again, only this time I'm not insured.
I never expected the fact he was learning the violin to be the secret hiding behind his bedroom door.
Imagine my embarrassment, when losing patience with the deli woman's consistently nodding 'No' to my food orders, when I discovered she had Parkinson's.
I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with my female body when I saw that the majority of his "Recent Searches" were for gay porn and homosexual networking sites.
The day my beloved cat died, my best friend asked me, "Well, did he leave you something in the will?" and my day was a whole lot better.
In his pocket he had a condom, a condom wraper, two broken pens, his mother's pink iPod, a lighter, and a broken cigarette, but no keys.
If my brother were not already dead I would kill him for what he has done to our family.
When I decided to be a writer as a child after falling in love with Sylvia Plath's poetry, I never counted on being in the same mental institution.
Having discovered One Sentence last summer at a job I quit soon after, I find myself rediscovering it almost a year later, at the same job, about to quit again.
I have received a lot of things that most don't get by 18, PTSD, depression, therapy, violent fantasies, and suicidal thoughts, yet I still haven't had a girlfriend.
I wept when I found her keys tossed on the coffee table.
As I held her hand and told her I loved her, I knew the rest of the school would be out for our blood.
The one I love is pregnant now, and I should be horrified and angry at their rapist, but somehow it's nice that we can have a kid despite my vasectomy.
When I found out I didn't know his real name four months into dating, I knew it probably wasn't going to work out.