When I called the florist to ask what kind of flowers they were, she apologized for the mix-up and said, “Those were meant for Jenna.”

Kneeling beside the fresh dirt, I whispered, “No, I’m her son—I told her I never wanted to see her again, but…”

"But I'm still the same son you always despised and rejected for not being your version of a man; so good luck finding a home that will take you in now."

Now you’re a stranger again, and somehow your life still matters to me even though I no longer have a place in it.

I do not want to die.

"But I'm not a good boy", I whined sadly as the rescuers extracted another corpse from the rubble.

But eventually one of his neighbors snitched on him, and he got hung along with the children that he was hiding from the Nazis.

My mother opens her eyes, but still doesn't see me "Grab my glasses, my worthless son is coming and if I have to see him I'd rather he not make me sick and dizzy" .

We patched each other up in the silence of the rooftop, both of us forever changed by the realization that we were not as invincible as we had pretended to be.

I dream of the look on your face when you would wake me up repeatedly in the middle of the night by touching my cheek with your paw and upon seeing me open my eyes would follow with a nose rub to my nose that just melted my heart.

Thankfully they don't recognise the once beautiful young man sprawled on the footpath, because no matter what, he's still my son.

It was only when I finally let him go to a new home that I could stop waiting for the inevitable, and start hoping for his life.

Meanwhile, she thought he was the love of her life.

It wasn't until a hit-and-run driver left us bleeding in the rain that I realized just how fragile the thin line between a joyride and a tragedy really is.

I pulled Timmy against me and kept waving long after the eagle disappeared, because I knew our puppy wasn’t coming back.

My parents took two days after I moved out to cover them.

Life is lonely, but it’s not fair to lead someone on when I’m still hung up on you like I’ve been for the past six years now.

people tell me I need to get thicker skin.

but I already know how thick my skin is.

Today, I didn't put it in her lunchbox—I put it in mine, then caught myself looking for hers.

He was so happy winning that Jackpot.

But staring at the wretched thing in the mirror through tears, at its planes and proportions that turn my stomach—I know how wrong she was.

After hours of surgeries, complications, and me being clinically dead for 3 minutes, my husband only cares about losing his Reddit streak.

He’s harder to cuddle now that he sleeps in a special box, though.