There was only one card, ever. I have no idea how it ended up in my car, crumpled for years, but it seems about right. Two months after we were married he gave me a birthday card, handing it to me like I was the luckiest girl in the world. It was some jokey, humorous… Read More

What? What did I do? Why are you always so sensitive? I was just joking! Cant you enjoy my anecdotes like your family, friends, co-workers, neighbors and fellow bus patrons? They see it’s just innocent ribbing, why do you have to ruin the joke by crying? Where’s your sense of humor? You always overreact to… Read More

It took almost a year for me to realize our chutes weren’t opening and the only thing left to do was brace for impact. When my marriage hit the ground in an anti-climatic thud it displaced the earth under every piece of my life and broke all the bones in my psyche. Anyone who says… Read More

The thing I liked most about him was that he thought I was Angelina Jolie dipped in Kim Kardashian sauce. Our kids played together, his wife and I were friends, just two more families coordinating soccer games and play dates, talking over fences and navigating the suburbs. Not content to stand in his rightful place… Read More

My personal history is peppered with lame people stuck to me like paisley on a tight fitting skirt. There were always qualifying statements and rationalizations I needed to spout in my soothing, wise, King Solomon-y tone: “You know how she gets.” “Well, what did you expect?” “If you didn’t want to be roofied you shouldn’t… Read More

He’s a child. And yet he breaks into his father’s email, he reads my petition for full custody. He feels adult betrayal, adult rage. “Why?” he shouts, again and again.  Why can’t his dad have joint custody? Why can’t he know what’s going to happen? Why can’t I stop making problems and be with them like a family?… Read More

She was late. As usual. It was surprising that I was surprised and frustrating that I was frustrated. As I leaned against the smooth silver pole on the subway, holding the shoulder strap of my bag, I could already envision the sweaty wait inside Penn Station. First the nervous checking and re-checking of the clock,… Read More

They weren’t love notes, exactly. Usually they were jokes, or little warm endearments written on the edge of a napkin and slipped into the clear baggie containing the sandwich I made for him every day. “It’s ok to hate meatloaf.” “You look cute when you sleep.” “I can’t wait to do nothing with you this weekend.”… Read More

“I just don’t trust you anymore. You lie to me all the time now.” “Like when?!” “Well, like when you said you were meeting Ed D. after work for drinks, and you said he was old and looked like my dad.” “You’re crazy! I work in an office full of men all day long. Do… Read More

He showed up with nothing, looking for a cool girlfriend. I was cool, so I auditioned. I had a job, an apartment, a car and a circle of welcoming friends. I got the part. He planted himself in the one bedroom place I shared with another girl, and took root.  He watched as we wrote… Read More