Jack is sick. Really sick. And I find myself missing him. Beyong oiur tlaks (and actions) regarding sex, he has become a good friend. When I go without seeing him for a few days I start to miss the way he tips the last drops of a beer and says it's sacrilege to waste it. I miss how he laughs. I miss how he sticks his tongue out when he is ( Read more... )

In the light of a full moon I ponder what is come of me and what is to become of me ( Read more... )

So much for raising feminist children ( Read more... )

And then we kissed for the first time. We had been friends for a few weeks. We were just hanging out and sewing and drinking. I was so nervous. All the what ifs sifting through me lke a cold shower of doubt. But his caress warmed all of those away. The first time we touched and breathed together I knew this was good ( Read more... )