Activity

[...] My residual guilt isn’t about knowing that I was never going to love my husband the way I needed to again—the way I believe people should love each other if they are going to use up all the days of their fleeting lives on each other. I don’t feel guilty anymore for the fact that I could alrea…

A lover moves out of his wife’s apartment and becomes a boyfriend. A boyfriend piles all his scant belongings into a U-Haul and relocates to Chicago full-time and becomes a life partner. A life partner files for divorce, proposing marriage on the final day I am fifty, and becomes a fiancé. A fiancé…

When we were still married, my husband used to tell me it was an honor to provide for us so that I could write, so that I could run a press and champion other artists, so that I could be available for our children. He said all this helped him to find value in his work, to think of himself as a patr…

[...] He wanted, perhaps, for me to long for such letters from him, even though he was not a man who would ever write them—he wanted his desires to be the gift I was hungry for, and was furious that I was only thinking about myself, even though he was also only thinking about himself. Now, nearly…