There’s no point in me rehashing this in detail so I’ll keep it brief: I’ve been writing on the Internet for as long as the Internet has existed, but due to my imposter syndrome, I have deleted all of those blogs and stories except the ones I still have on Medium. I don’t need to learn...

It’s been nearly five years and I’ve grown weary waiting for you, but you said the end is near, the delayalmost over, so in a few days I’ll be making room on a particular finger. I’ll be as ready as I’ve been for nearly five years. There’s nothing I want more than us. Photo by JUDY ANN DAYOT on Unsplash

People think I’m only joking when I sayI want to run away to a tropical island where no one can find me — but with my luck, I’ll get nothing more than a skerryto cling to, and the waves will keep pounding me either way. Still, having the chance, I’d go. Photo by Geoffrey Moffett on Unsplash

For months we’ve prayed for rain, heeding burn bans, losing the chance this year to sit around fire pits shooting shit with friends, watching stars fall, pretending this is fine, and we’ll live to see a better world before we’re gone. Photo by Kittitep Khotchalee on Unsplash

Consider for a moment the unhoused among us. They’re not trolls lurking under bridges. They’re people who, more often than not, had a bout of bad luck they couldn’t overcome.It’s hardly ever a fault of their own, and they deserve more than we give.