When My Key Wouldn’t Fit the Lock, I Knew Something Had Changed

still feel the specific shape of the trust I had in Jameson, the way you feel the space left by something you carried so long you didn’t notice the weight of it until it was gone. That’s the part that doesn’t resolve cleanly, not the anger, not the betrayal exactly, but the grief for a version of those months in which all of it was exactly what it continue reading …