BY ERICA MOORE
I was still in those early post break-up months of shifting plurals and titles, unexpectedly finished with the man that had held my ground in the years between you and me. Still in those days where any laugh morphed halfway into something wetter and more broken. There were no words that couldn’t remind me. And yet, how many weeks of relational shiva can pass before that disloyal thought erects: Possibilities remain.
And so I came.
Erica has 11 years of political and non-profit writing experience, none of which she employs in her second-person nocturnal ramblings on beenthinking.tumblr.com. When she is not writing, she is busy accumulating the 68 remaining passport stamps she needs to join the Travelers Century Club.
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