I have a boyfriend.
"I have a boyfriend." A sentence that carries a heavy, multifaceted asterisk. Guys hate it, obviously. But few of them discover what truly makes a woman use it to chop them down like bamboo at the wrong end of a katana. I won't allow discourse to end at "because she's a bitch," so here we … Continue reading I have a boyfriend.
When I was seven, I had an imaginary pet dog. He was a large black Doberman who lived in our underground parking structure, always waiting stoically beside our car. On car rides, I would stare out the window and imagine him running effortlessly alongside. He was the family guardian only I could see. When I … Continue reading Forward