Dear Dana ( Read more... )

( Our wait time was approximately two minutes. )

( It felt like a Mexican standoff )

I took a few minutes in the restroom to try and look like I hadn't just cried for a good ten minutes straight. I looked in the mirror, still not used to the blond hair barely grazing my shoulders, but for the first time in a long time, I saw myself in my reflection ( Read more... )

I was ready to get out of St. Luke's as fast as my legs could carry me, in fact, surprised that they could carry me at all.

We met the priest at the door as he was shaking hands. Father Marshall asked to speak to me privately. For a moment I felt ashamed that I'd let my emotions show so much that the man leading the Mass noticed my anguish. I knew ( Read more... )

( Pater noster, qui es in caelis: sanctificetur Nomen Tuum )

St. Luke's Catholic Church in Barton is a nondescript brown brick building with an underground basement and a severely slanted triangle roof. The orange and yellow leaves dropping from the trees on this brisk late autumn day skittled down its shingles and into piles on the grass, a fading green in the early light of morning.

My mantra--I can ( Read more... )

I'm writing this in the bathroom, perched awkwardly on the toilet seat so I don't wake Scully ( Read more... )

"What changed?" I asked her ( Read more... )

"What the hell were you thinking ( Read more... )