Coming Home

At first, there were so many firsts. All of these places that I had yet to revisit on my own, since the more memorable times there in my youth with my grandparents. So much time traveling to experience. But my firsts always brought memories of my lasts as well. Eating at this diner, I remembered the good times there, like celebrating birthdays and the new year after the Rose Parade. But I also remembered the hard times there, like going there for the first time after my grandpa died, then going with my great aunt for the first time after my grandma died, and eventually going there alone.

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Building the Foundation for a F*** Off Fund

I needed to channel this breakup rage into something more concrete. So, I methodically went through my emails and credit card bills, making a spreadsheet of all the money I had spent on him or us during the year of his deceit. It came out to a good sum of money, so I printed a bill and sent it, firmly giving a “due by” date and a gentle reminder that my best friend works with collections agents.

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