People say children from broken homes have it hard, but the children of charmed marriages have their own particular challenges.

They always call depression the blues, but I would have been happy to waken to a periwinkle outlook. Depression to me is urine yellow, washed out, exhausted miles of weak piss.

The question I've asked more often during our marriage, if not out loud, if not to the person who could answer. I supposed these questions storm cloud over every marriage: What are you thinking how are you feeling? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?

People say children from broken homes have it hard, but the children of charmed marriages have their own particular challenges.

I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence.

Ironic people always dissolve when confronted with earnestness, it's their kryptonite

I was not a lovable child, and I'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.