How to Love a Lying, Cheating Heart
Brett’s name flits onto my screen with an incoming email.
“Call you right back,” I say, hanging up on a friend.
Last time I talked to Brett, the Obama family lived in the White House. Last time I thought of him? Last year, as Melania took her third crack at presidential Christmas décor, and I failed to muster enough spirit to fetch our pre-lit tree from the garage.
Brett’s message came in through the contact form on my website. He invited me to meet for coffee; full respect if I decline.
Four years ago, it was me who reached out …
Though I run this site, it is not mine. It's ours. It's not about me. It's about us. Your stories and your wisdom are just as meaningful as mine. 