This section of the book is about the life Lynn and I built together in Wilmington, North Carolina—not in some idealized, picture-perfect sense, but in the daily, soulful way that love takes root. We were a family. That’s what mattered most.
Lynn was a poet and a potter. I was on my way to becoming a psychotherapist. We met through poetry—through words that tried to make…
During our first two years together, Lynn and I didn’t have “dates” in the traditional sense. There were no grand romantic gestures planned weeks in advance. We didn’t say, “let’s go on a date.” After the early weeks—when I sometimes wondered whether Lynn actually wanted to spend time with me—we simply fell into a rhythm. We did everything together. Naturally. Easily.
…
By July of 1993, Lynn and I had been together for nearly a year. At the time, I wasn’t thinking about labels or formalities—I was simply happy. It’s only now, as I look back, that I realize something remarkable: we had never actually said it out loud.
We hadn’t defined anything. We hadn’t needed to.
We saw each other almost every day. We kissed with affection and…
The summer flowed into fall and colder months, with colder nights.
I was reminded of an earlier moment when it was still summer like and I thought I was the newbie at least more than I was among this social circle. I realized that Lynn was quiet at the poetry readings or elsewhere. She wasn't looking for recognition or attention in those settings. She wasn't trying to…
In the last chapter, I mentioned that I asked Lynn out and we spent a weekend together at outdoor events in Wilmington and Carolina Beach, North Carolina. This might be taken out of context to imply something more intimate happened... something more than holding hands. That's not what I meant.
I dropped her off at her home after the fireworks on the fourth of July and…
In the last chapter, I spoke about attending the poetry readings at the Coastline Convention Center. It was April of 1992 when I arrived in Wilmington, North Carolina. I started attending the poetry readings on Sundays.
This was part of my new identity that I was discovering.
Somehow, at these poetry readings, I felt a sense of belonging. Everyone was so…
When I accepted a six-month contract as a technical writer at Corning Glass in Wilmington, North Carolina, I felt a mix of excitement and uncertainty. My engineering degree and experience as a software engineer had landed me the job, but I couldn't shake the question: What happens after six months?
The past year had been one of the most challenging periods of my…
Have you ever longed for something you didn’t know was missing—until it arrived and changed everything?
This section of my memoir begins with a turning point: I moved out of my parents' house, left behind a toxic family system that had muted my voice for years, and started building a life of my own. What came next was something I had never fully allowed myself to imagine—…
Somehow, I did get a job finally that could have made my parents satisfied. Everything was always about them. They never asked about anything that was happening to me. So, they never inquired about why I was going for grief counseling because they had no knowledge of this.
Working as a Software Engineer/Programmer
Anyway, I got a job at the National…
In the last chapter, I told you about the joy I found in finding someone to love and someone who loved me. I told you about the experiences I had, and I hope it was clear just how meaningful this was in my life's trajectory. It was so important to present the profound and positive impact this had on my life.
This was life-altering.
The experiences I had…