And I began to let him go. Hour by hour. Days into months. It was a physical sensation, like letting out the string of a kite. Except that the string was coming from my center.

He was raised without a proper diagnosis.

This is what happens when you go against the grain of truth. You get splinters later on.

But I can also write in crappy motel rooms, while standing in line, or sitting in the dentist's chair.

The most I would do was use the shadow tool in Photoshop to bring out the muscular rips in my stomach, which were honestly there. Beneath the fat.

I always tried to learn Greek, but all I got out of it was, "poulaki mou." ["My little chicken."]

Are you one of those people who says on a first date, 'I'm really not in a hurry to meet somebody, I figure if it happens, it happens'? Because those are the most desperate people of all. I'm just saying this so that if you are this person, you aren't hiding it from anybody. There is no shame in being hungry for another person. There is no shame in wanting very much to share your life with somebody.