Rooted, I used to think.

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The Birthday Dance - Friday, Dec. 20, 2019
You and Me - Tuesday, Dec. 17, 2019
Resilience - Friday, Dec. 13, 2019
Anniversary - Thursday, Dec. 12, 2019
Still Happy - Tuesday, Dec. 10, 2019

Friday, Feb. 22, 2019 @ 7:35 pm
The Last Day

JM knocks on my door and comes into my office.

"How are things!?!?" he says.

I tell him. He immediately walks over to me and envelops me in the most genuine, close, and warm hug outside of my mother. He tells me that he knows that I will find a man who sees how beautiful I am. I can't remember anyone ever telling me that I am beautiful.

I add hugs like this to the wish list for my next relationship.


I have dental work done. Half of my face is frozen. I go to yoga half-frozen, and it's strangely liberating because I don't have to work to relax that side of my jaw and face.

The class is full. I am between the two men in the class. I feel their energy, and we have to move in parallel with each other to avoid touching. I stare at one man's neck, how it curves down to meet his shoulder. And then at his ankle, just below where the cuff of his pant ends. When we are facing the other way, I feel his eyes moving along my shoulder, out along my arm.

I close my eyes and breathe into this moment and am grateful for being alive.


Josh and I go out for a beer. I grill him about dating life, about websites and apps and how it all works these days. He pays the bill and holds the door open on the way out, and all of that feels odd.


All week, I wake at 4:30 am. Rather than enduring the restless sleep that would follow, I rise. My body will sort itself out eventually; fighting this is pointless.

The mornings are quiet. Snow falls lightly. I have abundant clarity in these early morning moments. It's easy to sort clothing into piles with this type of clarity: keep, donate, throw out. I realize that I like this - waking up early - and that I hope for it to continue.


I hear nothing from Chris for a week. I consider my feelings around this. I could feel abandoned, but I choose to see this as him giving me space. I could feel sad, but I choose to see this as liberating, of not having to deal with this complication in the midst of everything else. Ultimately, I come away from this with inner peace, calm, and honest hope that he's doing well and that he has been busy with people and activities that bring him joy. I'm not sure that I've had the capacity to truly wish this for someone before.

And then this morning, at five am, I see that he's texted me.

Roots | Shoots