btd
My mom hides my Christmas presents better than she hides her sex toys.
My mom hides my Christmas presents better than she hides her sex toys.
We drove directly into the slums of Detroit just to buy the Polish treats from your childhood and when you pointed out the crack-deal going on down the street rather than ushering me out of that place as fast as possible, I was proud to call you my father.
Half of my family got me food while the other half paid for the dentist to make sure I couldn't eat any of it.
By the time I worked up the courage to IM him and finally reveal my little crush, he had signed off.
As the beeping turned to a flat tone, a tear rolled down her face, as if to tell us that she would miss us too.
After listening to him talk about a bunch of people I didn't know for over an hour, I finally told him how I was feeling, but when I looked up to gauge his reaction, I realised he was sending a message on his Blackberry.
No matter how many Christmas lights or stockings you hang or how many little Christmas trees you put up a bunker will never feel like Christmas.
He looked over at me from the driver's seat of his car, smiling despite the tears streaming down his face, the half-priced milkshake rapidly melting in the cup holder beside him, and said in a shaky, cracking voice, "This is catharsis."
I took the last clean fork and the last clean spoon and ate the last of the Top Ramen on the last day of the week, the last day of school before vacation.
I found out that Don't Ask, Don't Tell had been repealed two hours after I came out to my little sister.
The monk with the enchanting smile started to read my journal and when I pulled it away he apologized, continuing my tradition of inappropriate reactions to Thai monks.
Before she kissed me, she told me that regrets are like bad movies in that they make us laugh sometimes when we watch them over but are needed to show us what a good movie is.
One year later, I still haven't told you that dinner with you on our first date was a major step to recovering from my eating disorder.
My therapist finished reading the journal entry from three-years-ago and looked at me with wide, sad eyes, finally understanding.
We call each other soulmates and yet we still can't agree on how much Radiohead sucks.
Needless to say, the homophobic teacher did not appreciate watching the two boys share a quick kiss.
The man who sexually assaulted me last year and made me into the broken mess I am today just friend requested me on Facebook.
Though young, we were fierce in our compassion, and when we saw that the animals in the petting zoo were being treated unfairly, it wasn't long at all before we took matters into our own hands.
I figured I'd be alright after comforting my grief counselor while they cried after talking about the death of my father.
It wasn't until she pulled out her homework that I realized that we were not actually on a date.
I asked her the time, and she said "No sweetie, it's Tuesday."
I decided to go big when coming out to my family by revealing all at the same time that I'm lesbian, agnostic, vegan, and I work for a phone sex hotline.