The Unpacking Series
The Unpacking Series
e.
Hello, I’m e. I don’t often allow myself to finish thoughts, so I write about things I try to bury and intentions I try to keep. Thanks for being here.
Latest Posts
Talking to people, friends and strangers alike, has always been its own kind of nightmare. My heart races if I even think about having to talk to someone. I lose confidence before I’ve even started. Wait, is it possible to lose something...
I looked at the words I’d spent a year exsanguinating. There were rivulets of loathing—a rainbow of rust—but there was a smattering of red and yellow and green, too. I thought the capillaries would become rich with prismatic brilliance...
Driving has always been a study in contradictions. It’s liberation and confinement. Capability and diffidence. Exhilaration and terror. More terror than exhilaration, sometimes. My dad scared me silly when I first learned how to drive,...
I understand and don’t understand my brain. I had lunch with C., and I was happy the entire time. I really, really missed her. At the end of it, she asked if we could do this again soon. My mouth formed around yes, even as my brain...
C. asked if I wanted to go for lunch this Sunday. My immediate reaction was to say no, to find an excuse to bow out. Not because I don’t want to see her (I miss her dearly), but because I’ve somehow become afraid of stepping away to have...
I went swimming. I am reminded that I don’t like swimming, being in the water, the smell of chlorine, the damp floor, seeing strands of other people’s hair in the drain, and the feeling of a cold swimsuit afterwards. The whole...
I hadn’t worn perfume in a long time. I purchased maybe too many perfume samples last year, determined to indulge in one thing that brought me delight. I’d gone through all but two of them, and inexplicably fell into monotony. Everything...
It is February in Vancouver, and the sky is tumultuous. The gathering clouds loom dark and volatile. The rain is unceasing; the rush of the wind feels almost painful in the way it steals air from the lungs. This is winter’s last sigh,...
Building this blog was the work of several evenings of hyperfixation. Agonizing over every small detail felt strangely delightful rather than burdensome. I’ve always told myself I’m not a creative person in any sense of the word, but...
S. told me to ask for what I want, to take care of myself. I told her: “I think I only really know how to suffer, lol.” It’s been a recurring thought, that I don’t know how to have things, I only know how to want them.
We were running late to our own wedding reception. It was the middle of October, and the rain came down heavily, pattering insistently against the windshield. There was no wedding ceremony, of course: social anxiety won in the end, and...