A Love Letter to December
I’d like to stop and listen to the silence, sit with the stillness, and appreciate the winter for who she is.
I’d like to stop and listen to the silence, sit with the stillness, and appreciate the winter for who she is.
I introduced myself and finally learned my inverse’s name: Brooke.
If self-acceptance was so difficult for me, how could I expect acceptance of who I am to be any easier for other people?
I was haunted by the thought of a home that was all around me yet so distant from me.
Last year, it got towed while I was in line at the DMV on my birthday.
I’ve seen plenty of rats, had many awkward bus rides, and barely missed more trains that I can count.
Streaming services offer more choices than I’m ever going to be able to watch, there are too many excellent restaurants in Chicago to try, and Instagram serves up too many aesthetics for me to commit to in one lifetime.
I love my in-unit washer and dryer—I have the pictures to prove it.
But there is something biblical and beautiful about commitment to community that is not quickly discarded when a promotion lures or a warmer climate beckons.
Snowballs were thrown, hands were frozen, and hearts were full as I enjoyed my first real snowfall.