The one that got away
Three years ago he was my fiance and today he was found naked, bloody, and alone in his apartment two weeks after anyone had seen him and who knows how many days after his death.
Three years ago he was my fiance and today he was found naked, bloody, and alone in his apartment two weeks after anyone had seen him and who knows how many days after his death.
I've slept with a fan on every night for the past 13 years, 7 months, and 14 days.
There are few things that inspire as much panic as being alone in a fitting room and considering asking for help out of a too-small dress that is covering your chest, face, and arms, leaving you barefoot in your underwear and your hands useless in the air.
I realized how sad my life is when I found myself reading a graduate mathematics reference text for pleasure on a Friday night.
While I'm writing this, my girlfriend is breaking up with me through AIM.
I stay up late reading One Sentence to put off waking up without her.
Moving from Los Angeles to a town not even noted on any major map has made me realize that when it comes down to it, we are all alone.
What if, for me, socializing has sincerely become a chore, a burden to have to deal with during times when I can't enjoy solitude?
Somehow, I landed one of the coveted single rooms on campus, but it's only made me more nervous about being isolated and antisocial 1500 miles from home.
As I sat crying at my senior prom, I realized I was totally alone.
I suppose my life would have been different if I hadn't loved being naked when I was home alone, as an adolescent.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I never thought I would be left so alone.