Spines

It started when I was eighteen. I moved away from my childhood home. I moved away for a girl. She had red hair and smoked cigarettes and talked about the ghosts that lived in my bedroom. She taught me what a muse was and I used her as a vessel in an ocean of ink. Over the years I grasped onto pieces of people that came in and out of my life. I soon realized I was made up of these pieces. And I never wanted to damage or lose them. I wanted to keep their edges sharp and place them into my empty spaces like perfect geometry. Relationships were made and ruined. Everything had sentimental value. Closure never came. Even when I thought it would. But it was all a part of me and now I am not who I was. - A memoir written over the course of four years these chronological entries document honest moments in time during three relationships.