As a way of saying hello again, here’s all my drafted pieces on here that I never got around to finishing. From most recent to furthest back. Enjoy.

Jan 22, 2018 12:03 PM

“There’s something in here”, she whispers in the dark. She can’t see him beside her, only feel the heat of his body as he moves closer. The darkness completely surrounds the both of them, so thick that it almost is a thing itself, moving and pulsing.

Oct 15, 2017 2:04 PM

What are you afraid of?
Is what we are all really looking for just love? Affection? Attenti

Sep 25, 2017 8:33 PM


When I was younger my dad took me to fly with a friend of his in a prop plane. I got to sit up in the front and the pilot asked me if I wanted to fly it. It’s a typical moment in childhood; the pilot just puts it in cruise and then the kid can feel like their in control. But I said no. He asked again. I politely declined. I was scared. I didn’t want to be in control.

If that isn’t a metaphor for my entire life, then I don’t know what is.

Since long befo

Dec 19, 2016 8:04 PM

In the silent moments, when the rush of my thoughts dials down to a quiet whir, I allow myself to consider the reality of my situation. It is unsettling. It is hard to not feel like I am the common denominator in all my failed relationships; when you put things into their simplest terms, I’m always at the heart of the flaw. So, maybe, in taking a step back from my current position, I can see that it isn’t him, or us, but that it’s me, always searching for the wrong in everything.

Oct 5, 2016 3:44 PM

I love the smell o

Sep 18, 2015 8:58 PM

Happiness Projections. 

Last night on my way home from the bar I started thinking about what it means to be happy. There was a smile on my face as I clipped down the street, a fall breeze rustling my jacket and chilling my nose. I had spent so long being sad that I really couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be truly joyful.

It is not the great shiny experience that my depressed mind had imagined it would be. It is more of a quiet happy hum.

Apr 15, 2014 3:10 PM

I’ve Said It Once & I’ll Say It Again.

Mar 10, 2014 9:25 PM

Megan Needs Some Damn Support. 


I have been fighting a war against myself and all my loved ones for the last month. Every word they say is like a stab to my intelligence. And then when I say that, Oh well we’re just trying to help.


End of snippets. Who knows what these could’ve been. Not me. 




I don’t know how to reconcile what’s been going on inside me with how I really feel. The moment the words I had been holding back, for months, longer maybe even, passed through my lips I wished I could swallow them back down. Even though they taste bitter and leave my stomach aching. I wished none of it to be true. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe it is.

We stare at each other, eyes swollen and barely open, cheeks damp with the sadness of it all. I inhale deep greedy sobs, drowning in my own emotion. I did this to myself. I did this to us. I wish I could take it all back.

The Great Escape.

I got back from vacation last night and so, today, between my days off and being back to reality, I have been living in a daydream. I’ve been sitting on the couch for the past hour, neglecting all of my “back to routine” responsibilities (laundry, gym, cleaning, groceries, etc), in favour of thinking about what could’ve, should’ve, and might be. I can’t help but feel like I am not where I am supposed to be.

It isn’t really that even, it feels more like I am not who I’m supposed to be. I’m going through a bad phase with social media where I look at other people’s accounts and compare my own and I feel like I look so incredibly superficial and boring. There’s no real content to my life. I worry that this speaks to a deeper level of dissatisfaction from the superficial happiness I have been experiencing.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it though. Go do what ought to be done, to start (laundry, gym, cleaning, groceries, etc), and then maybe work on re-prioritizing. But also remember that social media is not an actual representation of the ways in which people are living and experiencing their lives.



My house smells of coffee in the mornings now. It never did growing up. In one of the small sacrifices I can see now, my dad didn’t drink it because my mom didn’t like the smell. He would buy a coffee or get some at the office instead, never complaining. She eventually bought him a k-cup when the conversation came up of how much money he was spending on coffees, though she insisted on taking it when they separated a few years ago. It sits in a cupboard in the apartment he pays for, just like the elliptical she demanded to keep, which is buried beneath boxes and knickknacks in her study. It wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on though, so he obliged, not the last of his many sacrifices.

It took me a long time to warm up to coffee and I am still not a habitual drinker, though there is a pot made every morning and it’s aroma fills the whole house. It reminds me of my grandparents house, my mom’s parents. Their house always smelled like coffee in the morning. I don’t understand where the disconnect is between them and her, but there is one.

It isn’t just about the coffee.

Late night farewells.

room.jpgI have lived in this shared one bedroom apartment with my craigslist roommate for close to three years. I have stared out at the dirt and mildew stained walls outside my window thousand of times thinking about my life and existence and the future. I keep feeling like I will be sad when I leave on Saturday, but I suddenly realized that this place has never really been my home.

In my transient young adulthood, this is the longest that I’ve ever stayed in one place, but the yellow tiled bathroom and beige walls don’t belong to me. No matter what efforts I put in to making this place mine, the calendar on the wall, or chalk boards with my to-do lists, it never really felt quite right. It was always a shared place, not fully my own. I think about all the memories I’ve made here, all the ways that I’ve really come into my own and become a person I am happy to be, and built relationships here and a life, but that isn’t about the place itself.

Sure, I will miss the memories, and maybe a little bit of the freedom I had in this ~300sq ft room, but this place was never really my home. Now I have the chance to make a real one for myself, if I am ready to give up the idea of myself as a transient youth and move forward into a real life with someone. It’s scary and overwhelming, but I’m ready to say goodbye to this non home and move forward into a real house with plants and dogs and friends and a man who loves me.

So goodbye, mildew stained paneled wall. I don’t think I’ll miss you.

I know you’ve been reading this.

I decided today that I like myself. This happens from time to time. It is not necessarily an all day, everyday kind of thing, but today I really felt it. I went to school and the gym and for dinner with a classmate. I felt tired and hungry and annoyed and sad and happy and lonely and excited all at once. And I was okay with it. That’s the thing about how you make me feel. You make me feel like, no matter what, I am okay. You never look at me with judgement in your eyes; you are always ready to accept where I’m at, no matter what. No matter my fears and doubts, I am always grateful for that. I love you. Always.