My Husband Survived; the Man I Married Didn’t
I can be my husband's nurse, but I can't be his jailer.
I can be my husband's nurse, but I can't be his jailer.
In she walked, a flattering, dirty-blonde asking me for painkillers. I had been warned: Addicts can be creative, ruthless and even seductive.
Put "Catholic" and "gay wedding" together, and you get an extravaganza of rituals.
Is that cute avatar checking out my avatar? My virtual heart leaps.
The morning I turned 18, I was told I was going blind. I would give anything to tell you what my wife looks like, but I can't. A real blind love, the literal kind, is a giving over of consciousness.
I wanted — needed — to nudge my husband a little closer to perfect.
How I mutated from Gandhi Girl to Army Wife.
In 12-step confessional style, this is what love addiction did to my life: I dropped out of college, quit my job, stopped talking to my family and friends and contemplated suicide.
An unmarried Jewish woman makes an offering to Santa Rita in a Roman Catholic cathedral in Italy.
I couldn't let my parents arrange my Indian marriage from Indiana. I would have to find my own suitable boy. Or perhaps even an unsuitable one.