Asking for help, the kind that requires another person to set aside time for me, to exert themselves physically, feels as easy as touching a hot stove.
I’ve been eulogizing, just to myself, in the moments between other moments that are claimed by tasks or thoughts of the present or literally anything else.
Every few days, Healthcare Workers Watch sends me a google drive folder with lists of names and photos of healthcare workers killed and abducted in Gaza.
I wondered if my friends were afraid that the honesty it takes to face that a relationship needs to end might be contagious. If they stood too close to me,…
