Two paint-covered hands held open, palms facing outward against a bright yellow background. The hands are smeared with blue, green, red, and brown paint across the fingers and palms.

unless I do…

I've never been able to satisfactorily explain this, but I don't like to be touched. Unless I do. And by never been able to satisfactorily explain it, I mean to anybody. Including myself. People sometimes think or feel in huge generalities. I niche down. The big space is too nebulous for me. There are maybe … Continue reading unless I do…

my history of understanding friendship — act III: of course I’m on a spectrum…

No relationship lives in black and white—and apparently, neither do I. In Act I, I told you about Cheri—the first friend who saw me without flinching. That friendship cracked something open in me, and then it broke me when it ended. In Act II, I picked up the pieces and tried to rebuild myself out … Continue reading my history of understanding friendship — act III: of course I’m on a spectrum…