Creative Writing

Love Each Other | A Poem

we take our losses in stride

can’t win every time

after all we know what it’s like

to be the underdog

with nothing to lose

but a lot to prove

there’s nothing we can’t do

because our love for each other

is all that matters


Why Blogging Is Better Than Dating

I may be single, but I’m in a serious relationship with my blog.

You call the shots. Do what you want, wherever you want? Don’t have to wait for anyone or anything? Free reign over any and every decision? Sign me up.

You can take breaks. If you’re busy, you can put blogging on hold. Mow imagine telling that a boyfriend or girlfriend you want to put your relationship on hold.

You make your own happiness. Never rely on someone to make you happy. Why would you when there’s an always reliable blog in your life.

Your blog will always be there for you. Unlike human beings who are too busy living their own lives. Their loss.

You confront a blank page, not a real person. It’s the best and worst thing about being a blogger. There will always be a brand new post waiting for you in the wings.

Blogging is, without a doubt, better than dating.

Creative Writing

Forces | A Poem

I don’t need a reason

They want us to explain

Question our definition

I’ll never be the same

You came in

Changed everything

It doesn’t matter

What strangers say

If people knew better

They’d understand

We win together

Still everyone thinks

Nothing lasts forever

But they haven’t seen

The force of you and me

Creative Writing

Make It Through | A Poem

Where’s the boy

Who told me

What was on his mind

Talked for hours every day

Shed tears during the night

Had nothing to hide

And a friend for life

Yet you substituted

One for someone

Bit what will you have

When that someone becomes no one

When the former still hasn’t forgotten

You think you’ve found happiness

So enjoy what you have

While you still have this

I hope you make it through

I want you to love her

Like you loved me

When we were a team

Creative Writing

Forever | A Short Story

“You like Philip, don’t you?” Lisa said, raising her eyebrows at Emily. 

“No, I don’t.”

“That’s what they all say.”

Emily fingered the heart-shaped charm on her necklace. “I really don’t.”

“You can lie to me all you want.” Lisa’s eyes widened as did her smile. “Just admit it.”

“I don’t have to admit something that isn’t true.” 

Lisa pointed at Emily. “You always touch your necklace.”

Emily didn’t say anything to this.

“You never take it off.”

Still, Emily stayed silent.

“I swear you’ve worn that necklace since…forever.” Lisa’s lips were no longer curled upwards but instead set in a straight line. “What gives? There’s no way Philip gave that to you—”

“He’s dead,” Emily said. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“What?” Her friend’s jaw dropped.

Emily shut her eyes. “The guy who gave me this necklace is dead, Lisa.”

“But how is that even possible? How did I…” Her thought trailed off because she didn’t want to complete it.

“Anything’s possible. You say that all the time.” Emily shrugged. 

Creative Writing

Lost Time | A Short Story

He knocked on her door, hoping Bella still lived here. Seven, nearly eight years have passed. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had moved. Her house looked the same to him. The reddish brown roof shingles. The empty flower bed near the front of the house, underneath a window. The cracked driveway with its fading gray paint job.

Seconds later he heard footsteps coming from inside the house.

The door opened. He hadn’t expected to see her, but she expected him even less.

“Grant?” She covered her mouth with a hand. “What are you…”

Her expression changed from surprise to confusion. He wondered if someone could hold a grudge for eight years.

Bella opened the door wider. “Come in.”

He did, removing his shoes slower than normal, first untying his shoelaces before slipping them off.

“Eight years.”

His head shot up. She wasn’t looking at him.


Her shoulders rose as she took a breath. “What are you doing here?”

“I ask myself the same thing,” Grant said in a low voice. 

“Why did you come back?”

“For you.” He glanced at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “I came back for you.”

She crossed her arms behind her, staring at the ground. “Don’t.”

“I did.” Grant made a move towards her, which made her back away.

“I think you should go.” Bella sidestepped around him and gripped the doorknob with one hand.

“Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”

“After all this time? After eight years? No, not really.”

Her face changed. Her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows furrowed.

He placed a hand against the door. “Don’t you want to hear an explanation?”

“I lived eight years without one. I’m sure I can live another eight.” The door wouldn’t budge even though she had the knob turned and was pulling as hard as she could.

Grant put more of his weight on his front leg, leaning into the doorframe. “Can you listen?”

“I don’t want to.”

“This has been eating at me for eight years.”

Bella exhaled, moving away from the door. “Then it can keep eating at you for eighty more.”

“You let me in.”

“Now I want you to leave.”

“That means you wanted to know. You wanted an explanation.” His voice cracked on the last word.

She tossed her head back, faked a laugh. “That doesn’t mean anything. Get out.”

“What about the four years we were together?”

Her eyes closed. “Four years isn’t exactly eight, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.” A pause. “What do I have to do?”

“Nothing. You can leave and—”

“I went to jail.”

Creative Writing

Running From Recognition | A Short Story


He turns around to see the woman who said his name. She’s taller than he remembers. Before he had to look down to make eye contact with Hannah, but now she’s almost as tall as he is. Aside from her height, nothing else has changed. James, on the other hand, has. He swapped his glasses for contact lenses, grew a beard, and dyed his hair.

“How’d you recognize me?”

Hannah giggles. “James, you’re not that hard to recognize despite all this.” She makes gestures near his face with her hands. “How are you?”

He glances at his watch. “I need to go.”

“But surely we can—”

He picks up his pace as he jogs away. “Next time.”

Hannah debates chasing after him, but decides to stay in place. 

James never thought he would see anyone he knew ever again, especially not his ex-girlfriend.

He feels his disguise needs work. She recognized him even after fifteen years. He can’t afford to be recognized.

He hurries away to his old, beat up car. Always looking over his shoulder, always running from one place to the next, took a toll on him. Looking into the rear-view mirror, he can see the dark circles under his light blue eyes.

One day he’ll stop running. At least that’s the promise he makes to himself every night before going to sleep. But today won’t be that day. He starts his car and takes off again.

Creative Writing

All Or Nothing | A Short Story

She watched him change until he was no longer recognizable to her.

Amy grew up with him. They lived across the street from each other and their parents were good friends. So it was no surprise Amy and Daniel spent most of their childhood together. He was eight months younger than her, born in November. She treated him like the younger brother she never had. Especially since her older brother was out of the country, studying abroad.

She doesn’t remember much when she was a baby. Only what her mother and father told her. They did everything together. Learned to walk at the same time. Watched the same television programs as kids. Even went to the same school, took similar classes.

But something changed.

It didn’t happen overnight.

And because she saw him so often, she didn’t realize he was changing right before her eyes until it was too late.

She couldn’t count the number of times he went to her house and vice-versa. Their parents didn’t care either. Sometimes when Amy’s mom and dad had somewhere to be, Daniel’s parents took care of her. When Daniel’s parents had to go out, Daniel went over to Amy’s to stay the night.

She could remember their sleepovers so vividly. Her parents set up a room with two beds on opposite walls for Amy and her older brother. Amy slept on one and her brother slept on the other. But because he was away, studying in Europe, Daniel would occupy her brother’s bed on nights he came over. They talked well into the night.

Amy used to fall asleep first no matter how hard she tried to fight sleep off.

She always wondered if he watched her as she slept.

Amy would wake up first and watch him.

He snored but not very loudly. Not loud enough to wake her up from her deep slumber.

Though they lived across the street, Amy and Daniel also liked talking on the phone. They could spend hours talking to each other. Many nights they stayed awake, chatting and laughing.

At first his silence didn’t bother her. She was comfortable with his silences. Amy figured he didn’t always have that much to say, especially since they spent so much time with each other, shared a lot about their lives. So it was possible Daniel had run out of things to tell her.

Amy didn’t want to think about any other possibility. He wasn’t moody or grumpy. He wasn’t an introvert. He just needed some space, some distance.

The nights they spent talking on the phone were less frequent. The conversations much shorter.

So long as they still talked to each other, Amy was overjoyed. But eventually they stopped.

Or he stopped.

She called his house one day and his mom picked up.

His mom told her he was busy.

Another time he was at a friend’s house.

Eventually Amy got sick of the excuses and asked Daniel herself when she saw him in person.

He shrugged and told her he had a life.

Daniel may as well have shoved her to the ground and left her there.

She found out he had a girlfriend through a friend of his.

Amy was talking to Sean when he let it slip.

She couldn’t help but feel as though they would never be friends again.