2014 came in much the same way 2013 did. Platitudes. Promises. Pleadings for a second (or seventh or eleventh or twentieth) chance. Continue reading “Bitterness”
When November rolls around every year, there are always two dates on the calendar that matter – my birthday and Thanksgiving. The first grows less significant each year as I reach the age where I start to pretend that I don’t have birthdays at all. The latter, which is a holiday that’s supposed to be filled with gratitude and love and familial closeness, leaves me empty.