Tag Archives: Atlanta

‘Twas the night before London

At the job I met T. He was the owner’s nephew and was working at the restaurant, too. I fell in love with him.

The awful, first love kind of way where you never think you will ever in a million years feel the way you feel about the man you are with.

Only, our relationship wasn’t a good one. T was an alcoholic, 10 years my senior, who despised life. While his self-loathing and misery didn’t rub off on me, it was entirely taken out on me. Our relationship was one of cyclical emotional abuse. It was pints of I-love-you’s with double shots of I-hate-you’s and lots and lots (and lots) of tears. And crazy wicked emotional hangovers.

It’s not “goodbye,” it’s “see you soon,” the Atlanta edition

I could barely hide the tears when I hugged my co-worker goodbye yesterday. And tonight, embracing people who have made my time in Atlanta so marvelous and memorable and wonderful, it was hard not to have the mascara run down my face. I am used to “goodbyes.” This is the second time in roughly one yearContinue reading “It’s not “goodbye,” it’s “see you soon,” the Atlanta edition”