breaking up
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From the Archives: Rumpus Original Fiction: Even the Moon
When you finished, several minutes passed before we spoke. You dipped a finger in a pool of candle wax. How could I know this was the only real secret you’d ever kept?
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Deleting Your Photos in a Poppy Field
It took all of the world’s beauty for me step forward, once more.
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Mixed Feelings: A Better Version of Love
You are free to love others as if it were a pleasure and a privilege, because that’s exactly what it is.
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You Are Nowhere
Didn’t he see what I saw: how a person could survive the unthinkable and still be broken by something as soft and uncertain as loneliness?
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Naming Our Phantoms: Tim Taranto’s Ars Botanica
There is no way to classify a response to pregnancy. It is what it is, which is why people find consolation in naming their phantoms. In this case, the phantom is named Catalpa.
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Albums of Our Lives: Frightened Rabbit’s The Midnight Organ Fight
Something about the twangy banjo and the melancholy vocals just made me feel less alone. And I hated being alone.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Never Let Me Go
“You can’t hold on to the past,” Elif once told me. “You don’t know how. You don’t know what to keep, what to throw away. So you keep it all. And you can’t do that. No one can.”
