I've said a lot of goodbyes in my lifetime. I've absorbed the shock of lives lost too soon and settled into the soberness that follows the dissolution of relationships, both platonic and romantic. Goodbyes are never easy for me, and I find that I still shed tears in those first moments of solitude (just like I did as a child leaving my grandmother's house). Last night I drove with my love to the airport--our fingers interlaced and my head resting on his shoulder. We spent the weekend alternating between questions like, "What's going on? Your face! Your face!" and answers like, "Let's not talk about this now." I watched him tenderly share his sentiments with the dogs and the walls of my house and the air in the front field. Time was not on our side, and the sun slowly made its way toward the horizon. We checked his bag and retrieved his boarding pass. Then we stole our final moments together randomly chatting about things serious and not so seriou...

I arrived home this afternoon to find seven napkins spread across my dining table. On it, scribbled with a Sharpie was a note that could only make me smile from a burning glow within me. It confirmed my thoughts from earlier in the day. As I drove to work this morning, I realized that nearly all the advice given to women about relationships--at least in this county--is nothing more than a load of BS. Especially this one... Be careful what you say to him. You will push him away if you are too needy. He won't want to tell you anything anymore. He will be overwhelmed with your words. I've taken this advice literally, and I've been known far too many times as the "cool girl". Hey, I know I haven't talked to you in weeks, please don't be mad. I know I told you I would ___, and I didn't, please don't be mad. You don't make any demands of me, you're so cool. [Insert any random story that leaves me feeling like I've been punched in the gut] I...