I Don’t Want To Be THAT Guy

My dad called me tonight. And for the first time in a long time, I answered. He was drunk, which is to be expected. But still…it stung. We talked about mundane things. How are you? How’s work? Etc. Then he said, “I’m sorry about your grandpa, grandpa John.” My moms dad, grandpa John, passed away…

A letter to the man I try to hate

If I look back through my journals I can find several entries that are clearly full of fury. My writing becomes messier and bigger than normal. All writing in moments of rage about how angry you make me. I hate the way you make me anxious. Most days I know I will be stuck in…