David, depression, memoir, memories, Uncategorized

Bring on the Tacky Shit

"I dream he has his hand around my neck, his face close to mine with that determined gaze of his. I know he doesn’t ever think about me anymore. I know that these dreams are irrational, especially now that the likelihood of us ever being in the same city again is slim – that’s what… Continue reading Bring on the Tacky Shit

Uncategorized

That Rugged Irishman

**Note this has been edited - for some reason I remembered this man as being Welsh and originally wrote it as such. I have since been corrected by no less than three people. Seems their memories out number mine - so here you go with the update 😉  So I was thinking about the whole possibility… Continue reading That Rugged Irishman