Memoir Entry #8: Dead Dad

A defining decision dictated by a dead dad.

Hey dear people! We have been journeying through Italy the last week and I am delivering a brief moment from my memoir-in-progress, “So I Married A Narcissist, Because All The Axe Murderers Were Already Taken.” It was hard picking a snapshot from writing in a more expansive way. In fact, I was terrified to send this out at all because, well, it’s vulnerable. And then, I made myself because that’s the calling: to jump off the cliff when you can’t see the net. So, here it is folx. xx

Dead Dad:

A few days went by and I didn’t hear much from Jason. He said that work was crazy but, I felt something else was going on. Like he was pulling away. Why though? We had the best time at the game. Neither of us wanted the date to end. I didn’t want to push but also, I was feeling sad. I went from feeling like Cinderella to feeling like I was sweeping floors again and talking to the fucking birds because my stepmom’s a bitch.