LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, The Something Series: 뭔가 다른 것

Day 3: Something For The Photobooks: A Jamie Monologue.

liz

Shawn was never good with big events. Any events, really. He nearly passed out hours before taking the Bar exam, and trying to get him together was a literal nightmare. Why did I think his wedding day would be any different? I believe there is a term you call people that are optimistic. It’s called ‘being stupid’.

“Ya,” I shouted as I banged on the bathroom door. “You can’t just hide out in the bathroom all day!”

“What the hell was I thinking,” Shawn says from the other side of the door. “How am I getting married so soon?!” I couldn’t help but sigh, as this isn’t the first time Shawn has said that exact thing.

“Shawn, you guys have been engaged for over a year,” I mentioned. “What did you think was going to happen?”

“Hyung, I can’t do this!”

“What happened to Mr. ‘You’re-Never-Gonna-Feel-Ready’ that was lecturing me about marriage last night?” I teased.

“I was foolish! I was talking after eating all that food at the dinner!” Shawn shouted. I shook my head, adjusting the cufflinks on my sleeves. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the front door; I open it knowing who it is. Kevin stands on the other side of the door, not amused to be standing here.

“Hyung,” he finally said as he walks into the apartment. He sighs as I close the door behind him. “Where is he?”

“Kevin?!” Shawn called out. “You called Kevin?!”

“If anyone is gonna talk you out the bathroom, it’s him,” I said, looking over at Kevin. Kevin and Shawn have had a rocky friendship ever since our time in California, and reconnected once Kevin’s daughter was born two years ago. Kevin knew how to talk Shawn out of these panic attacks; I clearly did not have the patience to deal with them.

Kevin walks over and knocks loudly on the bathroom door. “Hyung! Open the door!” Nothing is heard after that besides the sound of the lock opening. The door opens, and Shawn surprisingly is dressed.

“At least you’re dressed,” I said out loud.

“Shawn, what the hell is going on?” Kevin asked. “You do realize that the ceremony starts in an hour, right?”

“What if I’m making a mistake?”

“Whoa,” I intervened. “Are you having second thoughts about marrying Sky?”

“Marriage is… a commitment,” Shawn begins to explain. “What if we find out we aren’t compatible? What if she doesn’t like me as her husband? What if—”

“That’s not going to happen, Hyung,” Kevin reassured. “You and Skylar are literally one and the same. No one can put up with you the way she does.” I nodded my head, absolutely agreeing with him.

“But what if one day she stops? What if one day she stops loving me?” Shawn looked like he was serious when voicing his concerns. Did he truly believe these things? Did he really think that Skylar will just stop loving him one day if they get married?

“She’s not going to stop loving you,” I gently said to Shawn.

“How do you know that for sure?”

“She’s an Ashmore woman,” I said with a smile. “Once they make a decision, they don’t back out from it.” Shawn let out a deep breath, seeming to calm down a bit. Kevin watched as Shawn slowly stepped out of the bathroom in his tuxedo.

“I’m sweating profusely in this tux,” Shawn said, tugging at the collar.

“Good thing it’s a winter wedding and not a summer one,” Kevin began to say. “Skylar would be marrying a puddle at the altar.”

“Kevin,” I scolded him as he laughed. Shawn laughed as well, which surprised me. I forgot this was the way their friendship worked. This was their way of showing their love for each other.

“Were you this nervous for your wedding day, Kev?” I asked, taking the attention off of Shawn.

“Of course,” he began to say. “On top of that, JooAh was due any day with Yubin and didn’t want her to be uncomfortable throughout the whole ceremony.” Shawn turned his head, now looking at me.

“Don’t even,” I put my hand up, knowing what Shawn was thinking. Kevin was confused, but immediately dismissed it. “The scariest part about marriage isn’t the ceremony; it’s actually proposing.” I slowed hard, trying to not break a sweat in my own suit.

“And, Sky said yes,” I added. “She’s so in love with you, Shawn. You said it yourself last night; you need to feel ready for marriage, and you guys are ready to be married.” The ringtone of my cellphone goes up, breaking this sentimental moment between 3 friends-turned-brothers. Looking at the screen, it’s Grace. “Jagiya?“

“Where are you guys?” Grace immediately said in a panicked tone.

“We just got Shawn out of the bathroom successfully,” I said, throwing Shawn his coat and quickly putting mine on.

“The ceremony is literally starting in 20 minutes,” Grace admitted. I looked over the time of the stove, seeing the time as 11:33AM.

“We have two hours,” I said, now confused. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“What are you–” Grace paused before sighing. “You’re looking at the time on the stove, are you?”

“Yeah?”

“Babe, I don’t know how to tell you this, but that’s not the right time,” Grace said, ripping the bandage off without warning. “It’s 1:33PM.”

“What?!” I shouted, now the one panicking. “Why does the stove say 11:33 then?!”

“That thing has been wrong since…” I hear her sigh before finishing her sentence. “Since you were last in Korea. That’s KST.” My eyes widened; my initial reaction was this sense of warmth traveling through my body. She changed the time on the clock to know what time it was in Korea. Immediately after: pure panic. “We’re leaving now.” I hang up the phone, seeing both Shawn and Kevin stare at me. “We got 20 minutes to get there! Let’s go, let’s go!” The three of us run around the apartment, grabbing our things and exiting the door.

…

Shawn was the first one to run out of the cab when we got to the church, then Kevin. I hand the money over to the cab driver, thanking him as I ran behind the guys. I open the double doors of the church, watching both Shawn and Kevin run into the chapel; Kevin sliding into one of the booths with his wife and daughter, while Shawn ran down the aisle, bowing out of politeness and catching his breath once he got to the altar.

“Jamie!”

I turned around and finally see her. Uwa. Grace stands there with her red, curly hair tied up, with a couple of strands falling down the sides of her face. Her dress is a lavender color, hitting every curve on her perfectly. I immediately look at her belly, slightly poking through the fabric of the dress. She’s breathtaking–

“Ya!” She shouts, waving her hand in front of my face. I snap back to reality, seeing her small figure trying to get my attention. “Where the hell took you so long? Sky’s nearly about to rip herself out the dress and fight Shawn at the altar!”

“Shawn locked himself in the bathroom,” I explained as if it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing to come out of my mouth today. “He’s in the chapel though–“

“Is he finally fucking here?!” Skylar shouted, holding the train of her dress up to walk. He spots Grace and I and walks over to us. “I’m going to kill Shawn.”

“Oh, I know,” I said, completely agreeing. “Thank Grace’s stove clock for making us realize we didn’t have time to lollygag.” Grace hit me on the arm as I looked at her. “He’s at the altar now, possibly standing in a puddle of his sweat.” Skylar completely bypasses the joke and shouts at the wedding party gathered in the lobby.

“We’re starting! Everybody get in fucking place!” she runs at the end of the line as Grace and I get in our spot. The piano begins to play and the doors to the chapel open. The groomsmen and bridesmaids begin to walk down the aisle. I take in a deep breath, suddenly nervous. I feel Grace slightly squeeze my hand in hers, making me look down at her.

“You’re ready?” She whispers before he walk in the doorway, waiting to walk down the aisle. I smiled and looked up with Grace, beginning to walk down the aisle. As we walked down the aisle, I look over at the wedding guests. I see Shawn’s parents, the same parents that treated me like family during my time in law school. I see Grace’s parents looking at us, which makes me instantly nervous. To know this won’t be the last time they see Grace and I walk down an aisle is making my face become hot and flushed. By the time we got to the front of the altar, I stand next to Shawn, patting his shoulder as he lets out a deep breath. Shortly after, a little girl with blonde, curly hair and a light pink dress walked down the aisle; I couldn’t help but smile brightly. I looked over to Grace, watching her daughter throw flower petals on the ground and hurried to stand next to her. It wasn’t long after that everyone stood up from their seats and turned their attention towards the chapel door.

Skylar begins to walk out with her father with the biggest smile on his face. I look over at Shawn and immediately grab a tissue to hand over to him. I don’t blame him for being so emotional; seeing the woman you love walk down the aisle in a white wedding dress is a lot to keep in.

I look over to Grace on the bridesmaids side, watching through glassy eyes as Skylar walked down the aisle. Ahh, jagiya. I know how much this day meant for Grace as well. Shawn was right in saying that Grace was more like a sister to Skylar than a cousin. Being the only child in their families, they truly only had each other for support growing up. They fought like sisters, teased each other like sisters, and loved each other like sisters. I know this day means just as much to Grace as it does for Skylar.

…

Shawn and Skylar instantly became themselves again after the ceremony finished, and they were officially husband and wife. The music in the venue was loud, as some of the guests were already on the dance floor with the bride and groom. I walked across the hall, taking the atmosphere in. I was most excited to finally be with Grace after 24 hours of not being with her.

She sat at the table, talking to some guests alongside her mother. She looked up and smiled at me.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, handing Grace a small plate of hors d’oeuvres. “Just reminding the misses to eat something.” Grace rolled her eyes as her mother, Mollie, cooed.

“Such a gentleman,” Mollie commented, smiling at Grace.

“Nah, just well trained,” Grace playfully teased. Mollie began to get up from the seat once she hears Willow giving Grace’s dad, Weston, a handful. Before leaving, Mollie pats me on the shoulder.

“Makes sure she actually eats,” she says as she walks away with the other guests. I sit next to Grace and place my hand on her lap. Finally; together.

“Finally; together,” Grace leaned her head on my shoulder, practically reading my mind. “Sky drove me crazy last night.”

“Shawn wasn’t so easy to handle either,” I added, looking at her. She picks her head up to face me.

“Sky was all bent out of shape this morning,” Grace began to recall. “I felt so bad for her hairstylist; nothing was the hairstyle.” Oh, that very much sounds like Skylar.

“I had to call Kevin over to help drag Shawn out of the bathroom,” I mentioned. “It wouldn’t be Shawn if he wasn’t late to his own wedding.” Both Grace and I look out at the dance floor, watching Shawn and Skylar dance on each other along to the music. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

“You know it would,” Grace commented. “I mean, I knew Sky was serious about Shawn the moment she refused to go out to the Voyage after he went back to Korea. That was her favorite spot.”

“I get it,” I started to say. “That’s like us and the cafe.” Grace looked over at me, smiling as she put her hand on top of mine. “We’ll be bringing agi to the cafe, and tell them the story about how mom and dad fell in love over coffee.” Grace blushed instantly, trying to hold her growing smile.

The DJ slows the music down, which makes the couples begin to slow dance. I slowly get up from my seat, offering a hand to Grace. “May I have this dance, beautiful?” Grace smiled, extending her hand toward me.

“Of course,” Grace said, getting up from her seat, I hold her hand and walk her to the dance floor, picking a place not too far from out table just in case Grace needed to sit down. Still, it felt like our own private moment, dancing underneath the lights. I held her hand and held her close to me, swaying slowly back and forth to the song.

I dreamt of moments like this the second I knew I was in love with Grace. I dreamt of holding her in my arms as she pressed her head on my chest. I dreamt of smelling the rose scented conditioner Grace used once she got out of the shower. I dreamt of being with Grace; not just physically, but to know that emotionally she feels safe and loved. She deserved the world, and I dreamt of being the one giving her that. I dreamt slow dancing with her at a wedding; preferably our wedding.

I looked up and see both Shawn and Skylar looking in our direction. Once spotted, they immediately turned their heads away. Too late, guys.

“Shawn and Sky are practically gazing in our direction,” I joked. Grace lifted her head up to see the couple trying to not look obvious. They were very obvious. Grace laughed as she shook her head, looking back at me.

“Something tells me they’ve been talking about us,” Grace mentioned, cocking up an eyebrow. I wonder if Grace and Skylar had the same conversation Shawn and I did the night before.

“You know they are the co-owners of our fan club,” I joked, continuing to slow dance with Grace. Despite her looking absolutely gorgeous in her dress, I fear that Grace might look even sexier when she’s pregnant. She’s literally glowing; I don’t mind seeing this for the next 5 months at all.

“Maid of honor and best man,” a woman’s voice called out. Grace and I both turn our heads, noticing the photographer standing there. “May I?” She holds the camera up.

“Oh, of course,” Grace answered, getting herself ready to stand next to me. The photographer looks at us, analyzing how the picture will come out. I look at Grace and smile as she smiles for the camera. Flick. The photographer looks down at her camera, smiling at the result.

“Beautiful,” she said as she shows Grace and I the photo on her camera. It was a beautiful picture; Grace looking absolutely breathtaking as I looked at her. This will be something for the photo books; the one where we’ll have to show grace and I’s journey to where we are, and where we’re going to be.

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!

Day 2: Where Was I in 2016?

liz

Dear, Readers – welcome back to Letters from Liz!

It’s pretty crazy to think about writing this post, particularly because 2016 feels like it was only a couple of years ago; not a decade. If you think I’m going to be a mess next year writing blog posts for the blog’s tenth anniversary, prepare for me to be super nostalgic in this post.

Without further ado… where was Liz in 2016?

In 2016, I was in my senior year of college, entering my last semester as an undergraduate. I was taking four classes: Linguistics, American literature, Fiction Writing, and Acting II. I was a 22 year old aspiring screenwriter, hoping to get accepted to my dream graduate film school to pursue my passion at the time.

I entered the year wanting to document this monumental year; I decided to write a journal entry every day of the year to then read back at the end of it. I took that journal with me everywhere and wrote in it whenever I felt the end to document something. It’s something I still do, as I currently document 2025 in a journal as well.

My senior year of college was my favorite one of them all; it was the first time I actually made friends in my classes and wasn’t afraid of being myself with them. Most of my friends came from my acting classes, notably the best class I took and the one I cherish the most out of my undergrad experience. It was a shame that I was graduating that year; I wished I had found these group of people earlier in my college career so that I was able to spend more time with them. Still, I think they came at the perfect time in my life.

My friends came at a point where I was struggling a lot at home, dealing with some difficult situations that carried a lot of guilt and shame. These people made my days feel so much better, and it’s crazy to see the paths that they took after graduating CSI. One of them graduated with their MPH, of Masters of Public Health. One of them is now a tattoo artist in Florida. One of them is now a mother. One of them I get to see everyday since we work at the college as staff members now! I am so honored to have call them my friends, and I truly hope that they all continue to do well in their own paths of life.

Also, just to outdate myself some more, here is the official indicator that this was 2016: the Snapchat dog filter.

In 2016, I spent most of my time on my off days with my partner, who had just moved into their first apartment in Brooklyn. Nights consisted of us hanging out with large groups of people, including his family and friends and his roommate. It was truly the type of apartment anyone in their early 20’s dreamed of having, and for me it was a good place to relax and escape after a long day of classes, or if I just needed some time away from home. I am forever grateful to have been a part of that era, seeing my partner grow into his own.

On Valentine’s Day, my childhood dog, Pal, has passed away at our home in his sleep. It was truly my first ever pet loss. My family got Pal in 2001 from an adoption event at Petco. He was just 2 months old, and just as goofy as he was as he got older. This loss really got the best of me, and I distinctly remember having plans to see my partner for Valentine’s Day that year too. I remember waking up at 4 o’clock in the morning in tears, telling my partner I had a dream about Pal, and that he was still alive and well.

He was buried in Pennsylvania at my grandparent’s house, next to the other dogs that had passed earlier that year: Bear, Molly, and Emma, and where my grandfather’s ashes would later be spread. I like to believe that Pal was rested in the place that he enjoyed the most whenever we went to visit.

Sadly, I did not get into the grad film school I desperately wanted to get into. I guess you can say life has different plans for me. I was offered an automatic admission into the English Masters program at my college; a program that was currently going through a revamp of requirements and offered their students a chance to be a part of it. I was stuck in a place, not completely feeling fulfilled with my bachelor’s degree and wanted more. I decided to take the offer, starting grade school later that year for the Fall 2016 semester.

It is where I first met my mentor and now friend, Ro; or Professor Carlo in 2016. I was in her “Teaching of Writing” grad class, learning something that never in a million years did I think would become something I was passionate about. Throughout the semester, I became really comfortable in her class once I realized not all grad school professors are intense and scary. She was in her second year teaching at my college, and only 9 years my senior. By the end of the semester, I already knew I wanted to write my Master’s thesis about writing studies in first year college classrooms and immediately asked if she would be my thesis advisor when the time came around. I was grateful that she said yes, introducing me to a type of writing I did not know I even had in me. I truly believe because of Ro, I am now a better writer. Truly, I am where I am today because of Ro’s guidance and her willingness to mentor me professionally once I graduated from grad school.

2016 in a nutshell was a really good year for me, depsite the struggles I went through behind the scenes. I made the best of what I had, and went into the new year without any pre-notion on how the year was going to go. It was surprise, in my opinion, and I think a pivotal point in my journey of growth.

Who would think that a year later, this blog would be born…but that’s a different story for a blog post in next year’s celebration. 😉

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: 2026.

liz
Last year, new year’s eye.

I had an anxiety attack last year on New Years Eve, sitting on my bed trying to distract my intrusive thoughts with anything at this point. I felt alone on New Years Eve, even though I was at home with my family at the time. I was scared. I was scared of my own thoughts, not understanding that in a couple of months, I will learn that this sense of inflated responsibility I have will be labeled as obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Every year, I feel like I am getting closer to honestly knowing who I am for all the good and bad. I am learning that the things that I labeled as preferences were coping mechanisms that had an underlying, sneaky motive of control and responsibility. Because of that, I began to notice just how damaging my mechanisms became, simply off of the fact that they didn’t work for me anymore. I think out of everything, realizing the methods that used to help ease your depression and anxiety suddenly not work is the scariest thing; where else do you turn to when what you thought worked doesn’t anymore?

This past year in particular I picked up a hobby that I dropped when I graduated from grad school because I didn’t think it was helpful to my mental health. The problem wasn’t the hobby, it was everything else happening during that time period. I decided to keep a daily journal and write anything and everything in it every single day. Sure, I definitely did not manage to write every single day of 2025, but at least I tried!

page 1.

As I read back on the journal entries, I’m reminded of what my journey was like for the past year. It wasn’t linear, nor was it just a year of happy-go-lucky times. There were days that I questioned my abilities as a worker, writer, and even as a person. There were days I was sincerely happy and documented the day as detailed as possible so that I could remember it. There were days that I jotted down absolute nonsense, just because I needed an outlet to let it all out. 2025 wasn’t a special year, and it wasn’t one that I’ll think back in the future and document it as a monumental year. But, it was the first year in a really long time that I felt the most present. Maybe half of that was because journaling made me use my five senses to feel everything around me, and it allowed me to not live in my own head when I could be living in the outside world. In a sense, it has allowed me to really label my thoughts as just thoughts. There’s something symbolic in the way I can write down what’s going on in my head, close the journal shut, and continue to live on with my day knowing that the thoughts exist yet they do not affect how my day goes.

2026, I have high expectations for you; not because I’m looking to have such an amazing and life-changing year… although it would be nice, haha!

I have high expectations for you because I have high expectations for myself. I believe that I will finally manage my trichotillomania the more I practice ERP (exposure and response prevention) and get a better understanding about what causes it. I believe I will also finally allow myself to sit in discomfort more frequently, especially during the times I want nothing but to try to fix, control, and alter things to make them feel right. I have so many internal goals for myself this year, and I hope I can come back to this post (and come back to the very beginning of my 2026 journal this time next year) and read the journey on how 2026 shaped me into the person I will be entering 2027 in.

Cheers to you, 2026. I’m excited to see you for all its goodness.

The Junior Journals., Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2025

Day 12: The Summer We Didn’t See Coming: Milo’s Journal.

liz

Sophomore year had come to an end, and now the hardest part of our high school careers were coming: junior year.

It wasn’t just a day-by-day occurrence anymore; this was now the time that colleges will look at to determine whether or not they want you in their school. My dad had told me early on into sophomore year that I should be thinking about colleges. I laughed it off; all I wanted to do was go back to school, play in the band and sing in the choir, and hang out with Sophie after school.

“Again?” Jennifer asked as she prepped dinner in the kitchen. Reagan and Dylan were in the living room, watching some cartoon on the TV. Micah was in his room, playing what I would believe is some Charli XCX inspired techno beat on his iPad. “Didn’t you just see Sophie yesterday?”

“Today’s a brand new day,” I said, getting my bag ready. Jennifer turns around and looks at me, crossing her arms along her chest. “What?”

“Just because your dad is away at a conference for Spring Break, doesn’t mean you can go buckwild,” she commented. “I hope you have condoms in that bag.”

“Pep!” I reacted, my face now bright red.

“Your dad is oblivious; not me,” Jennifer turned back around into the kitchen and continued preparing food on the counter. “I think he chooses to be; why else would you constantly be hanging out in the pizza parlor with your girlfriend?”

“I happen to enjoy the pizza there,” I commented, grabbing a water from the fridge.

“Uh huh,” Jennifer responded. “I’m just telling you how it is, Milo. I don’t need you two running to me because you two decided to be reckless one night.” I feel my face get even hotter, remembering the time near my birthday that Sophie and I went to Jennifer for help with… lady problems. “I’m way too young to be a grandmother.”

“Pep, please,” I cover my ears as she spoke. I wanted nothing more to escape this conversation. Thankfully, Sophie called my phone at the right time. “Hey, babe… yep, I’m leaving now; I’ll be there in 10 minutes… Love you too.” I hang up my phone and get off the barstool and walk towards the front door. “I’ll text you!”

…

“Again?” I hear Jennifer whisper in the kitchen. “I’m worried about him, Milo.”

“He’s going to be fine, Pep,” I hear my dad speak. “It’s just a difficult time for him. It’s his first break-up.”

“I’m saying the same thing I had to tell Mollie earlier this summer; break-ups hurt, but the work never stops.” Mollie has had a hard summer for sure. I only know because she randomly had texted me one night during summer break. It completely took me off-guard, her message notifications were foreign on my phone. Later that night, I sat on my front stoop, waiting for her to come by. Once I had saw her walking underneath a street light I stood up. Mollie must’ve had saw me since she stopped in place for a moment. She continued walking toward my house; it wasn’t until she got close that I realized something was wrong.

“Mol?” I said, confused to see her here this late, yet alone here at all. “Is everything okay?” She didn’t say anything back; she simply started sobbing in my arms as I hugged her. This was the closest we’ve been since freshman year. “Mol.”

“Aaron and I broke up,” Mollie said through tears. I was speechless, not expecting to hear that. Aaron and Mollie were stronger than ever during sophomore year. We had drifted a part as the months passed in addition to our rocky first year at Waverly, but seeing her be so happy with Aaron made me realize just how much Mollie loved him. I understood what that looked like; in some strange way, it gave me the courage to finally make things official with Sophie.

“Why? What happened?” I pulled her away to finally talk to her, but her head hung low. All I saw were tears falling straight to the ground. I kneeled down in front of Mollie, not wanting to force her to look up at me. “Mol?”

She took a few deep breaths before she lifted her head up. I got up with her. “Aaron got some once in a lifetime deal to be an opener for the Chappell Brothers.” My eyes widen, shocked. That was definitely a once in a lifetime deal. “He leaves for tour in a week.”

“I’m… sorry, Mol,” I genuinely said. “How did he even get that?”

“His dumb, optimistic manager,” Mollie answered, sniffling and wiping her eyes. “Apparently this has been in the talks for a year. A year! A year Aaron knew this was in negotiation and didn’t even bother telling me until a week before!”

“But you’re in his band,” I pointed out. “You’ve been singing lead for two years now.” Mollie started crying again after I said that. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just–“

“I quit the band,” Mollie admitted. Another shocker in such a short time-span. “For one, my mom isn’t letting me run off with some boy and his band, and–“

“You’d be leaving dance behind,” I concluded, immediately understanding the circumstances. I sighed. “I’m sorry you’re going though this.” Mollie started to laugh as she continued wiping her tears off of her face.

“Isn’t it crazy,” she began to say. “I should’ve just listened to you when you said he cared about his band more than me.”

“No,” I immediately disagreed. “That was stupid for me to say in the first place.”

“But it was true–“

“You loved him, Mol,” I emphasized. “And anyone with a pair of eyes knew that he loved you back.” Mollie just stared at me, letting the slow falling tears fall from her eyes. “I didn’t realize that until this year; really.”

“This sucks,” Mollie said, putting her head on my shoulder.

I placed my head on top of hers, comforting her in the way that I used to; back when we were just kids. Back when we were best friends. “I know, Mol.”

…

I finally get up from my bed and open my bedroom door. I walk out passed the kitchen and see Jennifer and my dad standing there. They stop talking once they notice me standing.

“Hey, buddy,” my dad began to say.

“My room is literally around the corner,” I commented. “No need to stop talking about me now that I am here.”

“Milo,” Jennifer began to say as I walked past the two adults, getting a snack from the cabinet. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I simply said, walking out of the kitchen with a bag of chips in my hand. “I just want to relax before school starts next week.” I plopped down on the sofa, next to my younger brother, Micah. He looks at me when I reach for the remote.

“Hey! I’m watching that!” he whined.

“I’ve been hearing this same damn episode of Bluey all day,” I told him, annoyed.

“Mommy!”

“Milo,” my dad intervened.

“What?” I looked at my dad, frustrated at everyone in this house at this point. He started walking to the back door of the kitchen; the ones that goes straight to the studio downstairs.

“Come downstairs for a minute.” I sighed, leaving the bag of chips on the sofa. It wasn’t a surprise that I heard Micah immediately grab it for himself.

I walked down the studio stairs and stopped once I saw my dad in the equipment area, grabbing a guitar from the supply closet.

“Dad, I’m not in the mood to learn anything new with the electric guitar,” I pleaded, sitting on the piano bench, watching my dad tune the guitar. “Dad? Dad?!” He couldn’t hear me over the practice riffs he played on the guitar. Can’t lie, it sounded pretty sick.

He looked back up, taking the guitar off from his body and placing it on the stand next to him. He grabs a folding chair, opening it in front of me and sits down. “I know you’re having a hard time with your break-up with Sophie.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” I said nonchalantly. “It is what it is.”

“I know you love her, bud.” I begin bouncing my leg in place, unwillingly at this point. I didn’t want to get into this; not with my dad. “I know how it feels to have your very first heartbreak like that.”

“Jennifer broke up with you at one point?” I genuinely asked.

My dad shook his head no. “It was when your mom passed away.” Yeah, he won that debate.

“Dad,” I began to try to put together a tangible sentence about this topic. “I don’t want to have to look at her in band and think about why our relationship didn’t work out.”

“Why did you guys decide to break up in the first place?”

“Things just got complicated,” I answered vaguely. The truth of the matter was that Sophie felt like she lost her identity being with me. Throughout sophomore year, my friends became her friends when we got together. If I was around, it was most likely that Sophie was there too. It got to the point where she began to feel like my shadow.

It also didn’t help that major wise, we both probably did the worst in those classes. We weren’t really a good influence when we were together. We used to cut our 8th period class just so that we could hang out in the treehouse, or in the studio space before my parents got home. A lot of that time spent during that time was… well, you know.

“Not to sound insensitive, but you guys are 16. What could’ve possibly been more complicated than the classes you’re taking in school?”

“She spent a lot of time with me, dad.” Sophie spent majority of her time with me over the past year, and although I won’t tell him this, she had expressed she felt most like herself while she was doing her Juilliard future students program. I wouldn’t ever tell Sophie this, but her excessive time in the program was starting to rub me off the way. I started to feel like she would rather send time with other prospective students in the program instead of her own boyfriend. “We both felt like we were just… too dependent on each other, I guess.

“Sounds like you don’t agree,” my dad pointed out.

“I do,” I quickly said, dismissing his comment. “But I’m fine, dad. I think it’s best that we both focus on things for college, especially if we’re going to go to the schools we want to go.”

“That’s a very mature outlook on things,” my dad commented, and continued to play the guitar. I knew my dad played the guitar, but to him it’s been years since he did it every day. He mentioned that he used to be in a band with Jennifer and a couple of their friends back in high-school. What surprised me is that he actually looked cool playing it. “Have you ever thought about doing something outside of school this year?” Huh?

“With my schedule?” I joked, now walking towards him and the guitar. He looks up at me, noticing me looking at the guitar.

“Maybe you should put some of your focus this year on a new project,” he mentioned. “Like start your own band or something.”

“That’s basic,” I dismissed, rolling my eyes.

“It’s something on your resume for schools that are looking for leaders in their craft,” my dad mentioned. “At least, that’s what I heard for Berklee.” Boston Conservatory at Berklee was my top college. I went to a couple of campus tours and open houses last year whenever I had the chance, and that chance being whenever Jennifer had a dance competition with her academy in Massachusetts. I pictured myself walking around the campus, taking music classes and living away from home for four years. It was something I was excited about doing once I graduate Waverly next year.

But, I’ve yet to do junior year, in which something tells me this isn’t going to be the easiest year.

“I don’t know,” I finally answered. “I don’t think I’m ready to be going out there and recruit people for a band in junior year. Everyone already is a part of some band or group, especially after Aaron and his band–“

“Yeah.” My dad said. He knows exactly what happened. “Maybe you should try talking to Mollie.”

“And have her join yet another band? She’d punch me right in the face if I did.” It was true though. I couldn’t imagine Mollie wanting to join anything this year that involves music.

“But this could be something that you both put together,” my dad suggested. “Mollie joined someone else’s band. With her a part of the founding process, she has something that is evenly yours and hers.” My dad then begins to rip some sort of crazy chord on the guitar that echoes the entire studio room. It isn’t long after that Jennifer is yelling from on top of the stairs, saying that the house is shaking. My dad laughs and puts the guitar back on its stand. The guitar is shiny and orange; sort of vintage looking. I wonder if this was dad’s when he was in his own band.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, bud?” he answered, placing the guitar back in the storage closet.

“Why didn’t your band work out if they were all your friends?” I asked. My dad turned around and looked at me before answering the question.

“Personally, my priorities had to change,” he began to answer. “You were born and I has to take care of you first.” Ahh, so much for having a cool dad in a world famous band.

Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2025

Day 11: A Reflection of 2025.

liz

10 years ago, I was silently going through a major event in my life. Major, as in life-changing, and something that I did not know would affect me in the immediate years after that, and that it would trigger me years after it all.

It’s Halloween night, and I just got out of work and have plans to go out. I’m dressed as a Saloon girl, in honor to my office’s Western theme Halloween party. I meet up with my partner and one of his closest friends at the local bar; the one I have intentionally labeled as our “Central Perk”. The place is crowded, and we are unfortunately sitting next to a man who clearly had a ton to drink already. Despite my costume being very “cleavage exposed”, I felt the tightness in my chest. I felt uncomfortable; not because I didn’t expect a man to be drunk at a bar though. It was like my body was reacting to the scenario in a way that it did all those years ago. It was like… I wasn’t exposed to this type of trauma for so many years now, that I simply didn’t even know how to react. I felt myself getting an anxiety attack, and it showed on my face instantly.

Eventually, the guy left the bar and a younger couple in costumes took his spot in the bar. After processing the situation and feeling safe, I voiced out to my partner that seeing that man that drunk triggered me, and brought up that trauma. I’m grateful I didn’t need to further explain it, as he was there when that part of my life happened, 10 years ago.

I was 21. I felt trapped. Lost. Defeated, thinking this was going to be for the rest of my life if I didn’t get myself out of it.

I am now 31. I am free. I am better. I am undeniably living some of the best years of my life. I’m living the life 21 year old Liz dreamed of.

So, what happened? Well, life happened – and for once I am grateful that it nearly cost someone’s life in order to make a change. A major change. Major, as in to the point where it took years to forgive, and allow myself to let that anger go in order for me to start healing.

10 years later, I am reminded that the little girl that shared a common interest in sports was still alive. I was able to attend a game for a team that I grew up watching. I remember sitting in that stadium and just looking over to my left thinking, “this is something I didn’t think I’d ever get to do with you.”

This year–the more that I think about it–was truly… healing.

This year was the year that I began to be more honest with myself on a level that I wasn’t capable of doing due to fear. I was able to have conversations that were once too tough to have, especially when it came to more of the adult problems. I was also able to accept that… well, I was changing, and the things that once made me feel safe no longer worked during the rough times.

It’s probably why it nearly took 19 years to finally get treated for trichotillomania. I was finally being honest with myself.

This year, I finally started to feel like I was genuinely being myself without any self-judgement. In conversations with friends and family, in professional settings at the office, and in general I feel like more of my true personality is being let out. In a sense, I am starting to feel like the grown-up version of “kid me”: the funny, witty, bubbly kid that also didn’t take no shit from anyone that disrespected her. It’s nice to finally feel like I am closer to my kid self than any other version, which is honestly so surprisingly refreshing.

I did so many things to document a good year: I went to Atlantic City every 3 months, or literally when my partner and I felt like we needed a break from our jobs and come back to them feeling brand new and ready to make that money. I went to 2 concerts this year; one in which I was a VIP and got to hang out with the band before the show. I went to see the New York Mets play this summer, which was rewarding for the little baseball girly in me. I did all these amazing things that I chose to do because I deserved to experience times like this. I deserved to live my life like I was in my early 20’s again after wasting them being severely depressed and unmotivated.

I deserved to heal, and it was time that I allowed myself to heal.

The reality of it all was that I knew I was getting older, and the people that I grew up with were getting older. The reality of it, at least for me, was knowing that I am now at the age that I realize that the only person that will ever make you feel safe is yourself. The only person that you’ll ever feel secure and certain with is yourself. So, why not build up the relationship you should have with yourself?

To reflect back on this year and compare it to 2015 just proves the point that things get better with time. Hardships are going to happen, and it’s going to feel like nothing will ever be right.

Spoiler: The feeling will be temporary.

As we end 2025 and get ready for 2026, I reflect back on the difference in where I was this time last year. It just comes to show that it gets better as the years go on, despite what happens in between.

See you in 2026, letter readers. ❤

The Something Series: 뭔가 다른 것

Day 10: Something Left in the Backburner: A Jamie Monologue.

liz

If you would’ve asked me a year and a half ago if I’d be in Grace’s bedroom getting ready for a rehearsal dinner for my best friend’s wedding, I’d laugh out loud.

I combed my hair to the side, making sure my fringe isn’t in front of my face the entire night. I blinked to adjust my eyes to my glasses, and it wasn’t long after until I heard Grace walk into the room, on the phone with her cousin, Skylar.

“Sky, the more you put that negative energy out there, the more likely they’re gonna happen,” she said as she sits on the bed. I can’t help but look in the mirror at her reflection and smile as she attempts to put on her heels. “Nothing…is… going…to… go wrong–Jamie!” I turned around and walk toward Grace, kneeling on the ground to help her with her shoes. “We’ll see you in a few; don’t try to kill Shawn before the dinner.” She hangs up the phone and tosses it on the bed.

“Still stressing about the dinner, huh?” I said, buckling the last strap of her heel. Grace lets out a deep sigh as her answer, looking down at me. Before getting up from the ground, I look at Grace’s tiny, growing belly; placing my hand over it.

“Between today’s morning sickness and Sky’s panicked calls, I feel like I lived the entire day already,” Grace said, getting off the bed to walk over to her vanity. “I swear I might kill Sky before she’s able to kill Shawn. Have you spoke to Shawn today?”

“I did,” I answered, putting on my tie. “He’s just as nervous as Sky; only difference is he isn’t the one in charge of the rehearsal dinner.” I walked over to Grace, grabbing my bracelet from the vanity to put it on. “How are you feeling, jagiya?” Grace turned around, facing me as she sighed. It’s been a rough first trimester for Grace; not only because of the usual morning sickness and not being able to sleep through most nights, but even getting where we’re at has been a bumpy road.

Grace found out she was pregnant when she was visiting her mom in Italy for this year’s dance production. In true Grace fashion, she didn’t tell me until she got back and she didn’t tell me right away. It took her puking at my law firm’s holiday party to finally get the courage to tell me. It definitely was a rough couple of weeks after we found out, but we both were adamant on the fact that after everything we went through, we were ready to have a baby… even if it wasn’t planned.

“I’m nervous,” Grace admitted as she rested her head on my chest for a moment. I understood how tired she probably was on top of having to be her cousin’s maid of honor. I can relate being Shawn’s best man. “I feel like I’m nervous for Sky. She’s been crazy about this dinner and then with the wedding being tomorrow, she’s been a complete bridezilla.”

“Can you blame her though? She’s getting married,” I said as I rub Grace’s back. She gets off of my chest to look back up at me. I smile at her, just to reassure her that she’s going to be okay. “I know she’s been extra hard on you during this process, but after tomorrow it’ll all be over.”

“Is it bad to say that I can’t wait until she’s married and on her way to her honeymoon?” I couldn’t help but laugh at Grace’s question. I kissed her forehead before walking to the closet to grab her coat.

“Absolutely not, jagiya,” I began to say, placing my hand back on her tiny belly. “You have other things you’re busy working on.” Grace smiles, standing on her tippy toes to gently kiss me on the lips.

…

“Thank you everyone for coming out to our rehearsal dinner,” Skylar said, standing in front of the room of the banquet hall. “It’s been such a beautiful, chaotic year planning this wedding, and we can’t believe that it’s finally here!” I watched Shawn hold Skylar closer and tighter, shy standing there in front of her friends and family, in addition to his family that flew in from Korea. “Thank you, dad, for being able to come here from California to formally give me away at our wedding. I know how difficult it was to be able to make it here.” Skylar’s father smiles, waving the emotions away as Skylar’s voice cracks. Shawn holds Sky even tighter as she does, and hands her a thing of tissues from his pocket. “And thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Im, for being able to make it here from Korea for both the dinner and wedding.” Skylar looked at Shawn, in which he translated back in Korean for his parents. They finally smile and nod their heads, which was a good sign. “All this wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for our best man and maid of honor, Jamie Kim and Grace Ashmore. It truly means so much to have the two people that introduced us that one summer in California help celebrate Shawn and I’s love.” Grace smiles and blows a kiss at her cousin; I simply smile and put my arm around Grace. “Anyway, enough of the sappy shit, let’s eat and enjoy the rest of the night!” Everyone laughs and claps at Skylar’s speech before they begin to speak among each other.

“Hey, kid,” I hear a man’s voice approach our table. I quickly glanced over, recognizing it as Grace’s parents. I immediately get up from my seat, about to politely bow until Grace grabbed my arm, reminding me that it was okay to not bow for her parents. Grace hugs her parents first as I shake their hands. I still get so nervous being around her parents, even if they have been the most accepting people of me in any relationship I’ve been in. Maybe that was just the difference between Korean parents and American parents. “How are you guys doing?”

“Just waiting for the wedding to be over,” Grace answers and sighs. “Sky’s been driving me crazy.”

“Oh, Uncle Mason told me,” her father continued. “Sky nearly had a heart attack when she couldn’t get the flowers she wanted for the ceremony.” Her father smiled and looked at me. “Has Shawn been a crazy groom?”

“More like a nervous one,” I joked nervously. How can I call Shawn nervous when I’m just as nervous talking to Grace’s parents? Grace definitely can sense just how nervous I am. How many times can I internally say the word nervous–

“We’re happy though,” Grace intervened. “We knew they were perfect for each other the moment she ran off with Shawn on the first night they met.” She looked over to her mother before she spoke. “I heard Sonia is looking after the production for these two weeks you’re in New York.”

“She owes me,” her mother answered, raising an eyebrow. “Plus, she secretly misses being the director; she can barely go a day without calling me about it.” Grace laughed and nodded her head, seeming to agree with her mom. I could tell Grace was still uncomfortable talking to her mother since the start of the pregnancy. I can understand how difficult their relationship has been, and Grace always thinks her mother is thinking negatively about her decisions. She tried to keep things as normal as possible, but it was hard when her mother looked down at Grace’s belly after every sentence said. It was now me that needed to intervene.

“It was nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Ashmore,” I politely said. “If you excuse us, we’re going to check on Skylar and Shawn… wish us luck.” The four of us said our goodbyes for the time being, walking away from getting any deeper in conversation.

“Thank you,” Grace whispers to me as we walk across the room towards the soon-to-be bride and groom.

…

“Jagiya, it’s just for one night,” I said over the phone, taking my coat and putting it in the closet. It hurt me to not have Grace home with me, but I understand why Skylar preferred her bridal party to sleep in her hotel suite tonight. “Before you know it, we’ll be at the wedding dancing on the dancefloor–” Before I could finish my sentence, I hear a loud knock on the door. I shook my head, knowing exactly who it was. “Yes, I know how much you’re looking forward to eating a piece of that wedding cake.” I opened the front door and see Shawn standing there with various bags and a suitcase. He walks in as if he lives here himself. “Shawn just made it to our place; you can tell Sky he’s not a lost puppy in the streets of New York City.” Shawn rolls his eyes as he sets his things down. “I love you too; give agi a kiss for me.” I look at Shawn as I hung up the phone. I can tell he has nothing else on his mind besides this wedding since Shawn would’ve normally said something he thought was witty and funny.

“Tonight was… a lot,” Shawn finally said. I walked into the kitchen and took down two mugs from the cabinet, offering Shawn some hot tea. “Putting my parents in a hotel was more difficult than the Korean Bar Exam.”

“How are they liking New York so far?” I asked, walking over and handing him a mug.

“Oh they love it,” Shawn said, taking a sip from his tea. “They asked me why Sky and I are living in California and not here.”

“Your parents have a point,” I teased, sitting down across from him. “But I understand that Skylar wants to be close to her father.”

“For a man actively battling this cancer, he sure has a sense of humor on him. He did this whole elaborate prank on me when Sky first introduced me. I swear I thought I was going to have to pack my bags and go back to Korea and start over.” I laughed at Shawn’s recollection. I remember that frantic phone call. Shawn quickly changes the subject, which I wasn’t surprised of; it was something he always did when he wanted the attention off of himself. “So, when are you and Grace getting married?”

“Ya,” I winced, not wanting to get into this conversation again. “Are we really bringing this topic up on the night before your wedding?”

“My wedding, your wedding; it’s still wedding related.” I give Shawn a look he knows far too well; the ‘I know exactly where this is going to go’ look. Shawn has been asking me this exact question since I came back to New York for Grace. It died down a bit when he was getting ready to properly propose to Skylar. It picked back up the moment she told him that Grace was expecting almost 4 months ago. “Hopefully it’s soon; Sky and I have a running bet to see how long it’ll take you to propose.”

“It’s not as easy as you’re making it.”

“It actually is,” Shawn debated. “I literally did it myself.” I hold the bridge of my nose, letting out a huge sigh. “Kevin married JooAh as soon as he got to Korea after finding out she was pregnant, and they’ve been happily married since. You saw how cute their little family looked at the dinner—”

“Shawn,” I said, trying to get him back on track. “Kevin and JooAh’s relationship is completely different than mine and Grace’s.”

“How? He got her pregnant, he flew back and immediately asked her to marry him,” Shawn crossed his arms along his chest, talking as if he had it all figured out. “If Grace was Korean, you guys would’ve been married with babies running around all around your house—”

“Keyword in that sentence is Korean,” I said, air-quoting the last word. Shawn fails to realize that this is America, and Americans do things differently than what we grew up around back in Korea. Shawn rolls his eyes and shifts in his seat.

“Hyung, do you love Grace?”

“Really, Shawn?”

“Well, do you?”

“Of course I love her,” I answered, just to get him off my back with this stupid question. “I wouldn’t have moved across the world to be with her if I didn’t love her—”

“Exactly!” Shawn snapped his fingers as he said. “You love her, so much that you sacrificed your life back in Korea in order to be with her.” I scrunched my eyebrows, really trying to understand where Shawn was going with this.

“It was my decision to come to America,” I emphasized.

“Was it?”

“Shawn, I don’t appreciate the way you’re talking about my girlfriend,” I said, trying to get Shawn to stop talking in riddles. “Grace did not force me, or give me an ultimatum to make me come live here with her in America.”

“No, but you sacrificed something in order for you two to be together. Grace…”

“Ya,” I sternly said, warning Shawn before he finished his sentence. “Be careful with your words.”

“There’s no doubt that Grace is like a sister to Sky, which means she’s practically my sister-in-law. I say this with nothing but respect, but what has she sacrificed for this relationship?” I leaned forward in my seat, which made Shawn a bit timid. He quickly gathers himself, as if he’s really trying to prove his point.

“She’s literally four months pregnant with our child, Shawn; what more of a sacrifice can she make?” All I can think about is that night after the holiday party; it nearly took me all night to talk to Grace and calm her down. “You fail to realize the first time she was pregnant, things between Grace and I were immensely different.”

“Okay, that’s one thing,” Shawn sat up, gathering his thoughts. “But in the sense of her giving up something in her life for the sake of your relationship, Grace has had everything easily handed to her.” Before I got the chance to get up from my seat, Shawn backtracks his statement. “What I mean is that she didn’t have to leave New York or her family or her job in order to be with you.”

“And you think her agreeing to marriage is her sacrificing something in her life?” I questioned, not believing a word Shawn was saying. “You also fail to realize that Grace would technically be in the same predicament she was when she was engaged to her daughter’s father.”

“So you’re afraid to actually propose to her because you believe she’s gonna say no?” Shawn put together like pieces to a puzzle. “You think that she’s going to say no?”

“I don’t want her to think I want to marry her for the sake of the baby. That’s literally what happened when she had her daughter, Willow.”

“But you said it yourself, you guys are different people now. This time, you both know you love each other.” In a sense, Shawn was right. Grace and I are not the people we were in our late 20s, and the circumstances were different. Now we’re together, with nothing getting in our way being together. Was I afraid to ask her to marry me? Would she say no before saying yes? I sighed, feeling exhausted from this conversation.

“If it eases your mind, I’ll tell you this,” I began to say. “One day, I will ask Grace to marry me. For now, we have other things that need our attention.” Shawn gets up from his seat to walk over to his suitcase, noticeably grabbing a pair of pajamas from the bag.

“I get it,” Shawn said nonchalantly. “The Ashmore women are not like the women we grew up around. They’re independent, spunky, and want to be the ones to make the big decisions.” He turned around with his clothes in hand, facing me. “But you have to go for something that you want instead of letting it become just something in the backburner.” I hate when Shawn was right.

“Let’s just focus on your wedding tomorrow,” I gently said, getting up from the sofa to call it a night. Shawn doesn’t budge; he just continues to look at me before he ultimately sighs.

“The truth is you guys will never be ready. Not for marriage. You both will know when it’s time. That’s how Sky and I got to where we’re at.” Shawn walks to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Of course I want Grace to be my wife. Of course I want to get down on one knee, take the little box out of my pocket and ask her to marry me. Of course I want to be the one standing at the end of the aisle watching Grace walk down in a wedding dress. Of course I not only want our child to have my last name, but I want Grace to officially be ‘Grace Kim’.

The question is if she really wants that, and her answer is what scares me.

Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2025, y2katalogue: The Tapes

Day 9: Tape #52 – The First Serious Talk of Many.

liz

Milo walks down the very block he did about a week ago; this time without any of the excitement he usually feels. His stomach is in a knot; each footstep forward feels harder to make than the last one. He finally reaches his destination: the treehouse in front of Gwen’s yard.

Milo looks up, hoping to see some movement in the treehouse. He sighs, about to give up and head back around until the front door of Gwen’s house opens. Milo quickly turns around, noticing Gwen’s mother standing there.

Beth: I’m sorry; are you looking for Gwen?

Milo: *nervous* Uhm, uh–

Beth: My husband and I have noticed you walking up and down our street all week and–

Gwen walks up behind her mother.

Gwen: *embarrassed* Mom…

Beth: What? Do you know this young man?

Gwen looks over at Milo; it was the first time Milo has physically seen Gwen since the night in the treehouse.

Gwen: *to Beth* Yes, mom. He’s… a friend from school.

Beth and Gwen look back at Milo, who is now awkwardly standing in the middle of their yard.

…

Gwen opens the door of her bedroom and walks in, letting Milo follow behind her. She doesn’t say anything to him; she simply goes to the corner of her room where a window stoop-now-seat is with a munch of books piling up. Milo stands in the middle of her room, observing her.

Milo: That’s surely a lot of books to read for the first day of summer break.

Gwen: It’s for AP English; they gave us a reading list of books to finish before the school year starts.

Milo: That’s… a lot.

Gwen: I’ll manage.

Gwen turns her back on Milo, flipping through the various pages of books. Milo slowly walks closer to Gwen, watching her every move. He notices her side eyeing him as he gets closer. He slowly sits next to Gwen, facing her as she skims.

Gwen: *not looking up* I doubt you’re here to help me read these books…

Milo: You haven’t been on AIM in days.

Gwen’s head shoots up to look at Milo; she doesn’t say anything.

Gwen: I don’t feel like IMing anybody–

Milo: That’s completely fine, but I’m not just anybody.

Gwen shuts her book hard, making a thud sound against its pages.

Milo: How are you doing?

Gwen: *crosses her arms along her chest* That’s a stupid question.

Milo: It probably is, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.

Gwen: I’m fine, Milo…

Milo: *stern* Stop it.

Milo and Gwen stare at each other for a moment before Gwen looks away; preferable trying to hold back her tears.

Milo: I already told you, I’m not going anywhere.

Gwen: Milo–

Milo: And I meant it.

Gwen doesn’t say anything else; she just looks at Milo as he speaks.

Milo: Mr. Harrison petitioned to remove me from the dual major program.

Gwen: *shocked* What?

Milo: He hounded at the fact that I missed the dual major and strings performance and said I wasn’t fit to be in the program.

Gwen sighs as her face softens.

Gwen: Because you came over here… I’m so sorry–

Milo: You did nothing wrong.

Gwen: *confused* You missed the show because of me.

Milo: You think I care more about a stupid program than you?

Gwen: *concerned* Milo, you worked hard to be in the dual majors program. You earned your spot and for Mr. Harrison to petition you be removed is not fair–

Milo: You matter more, Gwen.

Milo pauses before he speaks again.

Milo: You and… the baby matter more.

Gwen doesn’t say anything back. She watches Milo gently put his hand on top of hers, slightly squeezing it for reassurance.

Gwen: *softly* How are you so… calm about this?

Milo: Believe me, I’m screaming inside; but one of us has to be the one to make sure the other is alright. I rather be that one.

Gwen smiles before she lets out a deep sigh.

Gwen: *worried* Milo… we have to make a decision about this.

Milo looks at Gwen, a bit confused.

Milo: A decision?

Gwen: We’re only 15. We’ve just finished freshman year of high school. You have to deal with the dual major issue, I have tons of work for these AP courses, you have your band, I have my extracurricular activities–

Milo: What are you trying to say?

Gwen: *dumbfounded* What do you mean ‘what am I trying to say’?!

Milo: You’ve said nothing but the obvious things, Gwen–

Gwen: *annoyed* The obvious things are the obvious reasons we can’t keep it.

Milo freezes in place, not knowing how to respond.

Milo: Is that what you want to do?

Gwen: *impatient* You want me to make the decision?

Milo: It’s your body, Gwen. I don’t have a say what you should do with your body–

Gwen: This isn’t just my baby–

Milo: *annoyed* Would it matter what I say in this situation though?

Gwen gets up from where she’s sitting and walks to her desk. Milo sighs, getting up to follow Gwen.

Milo: This is… all new to me, Gwen. Having any say in a decision like this feels wrong only because it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.

Gwen: Made up my mind?

Milo: You don’t want to keep the baby.

Gwen scrunches her eyebrows, hearing Milo finally saying the taboo thing out loud.

Gwen: Do you also not want to keep it?

Milo: Gwen, I can’t make that decision for you–

Gwen: *stern* Convince me why we shouldn’t keep it then.

Milo looks at Gwen, not understanding where she is going with this.

Milo: You just said the obvious reasons why we shouldn’t–

Gwen: But I’m not convinced.

Milo’s eyes widen, finally piecing together the true nature of this serious talk.

Milo: You… want to keep the baby?

Gwen doesn’t say anything right away; she ponders her answer before speaking. She finally turns her chair to face Milo.

Gwen: I know it’s not the right decision… but… getting rid of it also doesn’t feel right either. What if this is a sign?

Milo: A sign?

Gwen: What if I don’t get the chance to have a baby when I get older? What if this baby happened for a reason?

Milo: Gwen, you’re talking in riddles now.

Gwen: *sighs* What if this baby happened because this is the only chance I’ll ever have to have a baby? It’s like… the universe is telling me it had to happen now because I won’t be able to do it in the future?

Milo takes a moment to understand what Gwen is trying to say. He hates hearing her talk about her life as if it’s ending, but understands why she views it in such way. He understands why she’s viewing this in the same way as well.

Gwen: But… I can’t make this decision alone, Milo. I can’t make this decision knowing that you don’t want the same thing.

Before Milo has time to think and come up with an answer, Gwen’s mother knocks on the bedroom door before entering. The two teens separate from each other, creating some distance before her mother sees them.

Beth: Dinner’s ready if you both want to come down and eat.

Gwen looks at Milo and puts a smile on her face.

Gwen: Would you like to stay for dinner, Milo?

Milo takes a moment to answer. He sees just how scared Gwen is, and how hard she is trying to hide it from the outside world. In this moment, he feels the need to protect not only her, but their baby as well.

Milo: Sure.

Gwen gets up from her seat and begins to walk out of her bedroom door. Milo follows, closing her door behind them.

Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2025, Voiceless Rant: The Series

Day 8: A Voiceless Rant, 2025 Edition.

liz

Another year, another post to just throw out some random thoughts on a screen and label it as a rant. Yes, if you haven’t guessed it already by the title, this is the 2025 edition of:

I feel like the older I get, the less inclined I am to actually express myself (personally) in my blog writing. Sure, we have Overexposed as a series, but I find myself very much enjoying having the ability to share what I want to share versus what I don’t. This doesn’t mean I’m not a writer anymore, it just means that my inspiration and my focus is more on the stories I write, telling the stories of the different characters that live in my brain for most of the day.

The most I’ve shared about myself was my OCD diagnosis, which is something that I chose to share for the sake of being transparent and authentic with myself. Like I previously spoke about, it’s been a challenge understanding how this diagnosis looks like on me, and in the process of learning and being more aware of my rituals, compulsions, and rumination, it’s very apparent that all of those are mental for me. I learned a lot about myself in this journey, not even realizing that the inner voice in my head that never shuts up is a OCD symptom. Needless to say, this is something that I am still learning about, all while “unlearning” the techniques and mechanisms, disguised as OCD.

I was worried that this new diagnosis would mentally put me in the place I was in when I first started therapy, and using my anxiety diagnosis as the bible to explain why I was the way I was. It hindered my progress, and it really wasn’t until a couple of years later that I figured out how anxiety looked on me. In an ironic way, it’s my OCD fearing that because of this new diagnosis, I will treat it as a crutch as I did with previous diagnosis’. I know it’s a ridiculous thought, but it feels real, and OCD strives on thoughts that feel real. I am (still) learning that every thought is just a thought, whether or not it’s fake or real. I am (also still) learning that not everything I struggle with is stemmed with OCD, and that things that are currently happening and real need to be processed correctly. In a nutshell, my belief that emotional processing will cause me to spiral out of control was an OCD thought that developed through a traumatic experience.

One of my compulsions is hair pulling. Not only does it stress me out that I do it and know that it’s a body repetitive focused behavior, but I have trained my brain that pulling my hair allows my mind to escape the real situations and real emotions I am currently going through. For me, it’s dealing with the “mental changes” from young adulthood to adulthood, battling with themes and feelings that are very new in this body.

As I write this, I am trying to be more discipline with myself. Knowing myself, I am trying to quit cold turkey with hair pulling. I’ve tried looking at it in a different perspective, replacing the behavior with something similar; everything. After many discussions with different professionals about my hair pulling, I am at the stage where I’ve gained awareness of the behavior, but have not strictly stopped myself from doing the behavior. While it’s not ideal to quit turkey since this is a behavior, not a habit, I am trying to control the situation by visibly seeing this huge STOP sign in my mind when I find myself wanting to pull, or mindlessly pull. So far, it’s been going well with some moments of me looking at my hair and pulling and going, “oh shit, you’re doing it again.”

I have tons of goals for myself entering 2026 related to this. So far, I have not cut my hair short out of impulse, and I’ve been letting my eyebrows grow (again) after they burned off with bleach.

“Oh, what makes this attempt to grow out your hair and eyebrows any different than the last couple of times?” I wasn’t aware that even this thought was OCD driven.

What makes this time different is now I have the resources needed to at least try something different. I am able to take note of the places and time of day when I am prone to pulling my hair. I am able to take a step back and think what truly is the underlying issue causing these urges to pull.

Of course, there’s always a chance I will need to revise my plan, and be okay knowing the fact that it may not work. There’s always a chance I will pull and not know how to get myself out of it. There’s always a chance that the guilt and shame of relapsing will drive my need to continue to pull. There’s always a chance that this time may be like the other times in the past. But, at least I can say that I tried, and am actively trying to break the cycle.

The Teenage Monologues: Season 3, Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2025

Day 7: Just the Beginning of the End: A Dual Monologue.

liz

And here we were; the final week of my freshman year.

I sit in the band ensemble, watching this year’s 12th grade class in their caps and gowns and walking as we play “Pomp and Circumstance”. I watch the principal of Waverly call out every graduate’s name as they walked across the stage, receiving their diploma. It’s crazy to think that I’ll be there in a couple of years; experience under my belt, possibly a great college ready to attend later that Fall, and… God knows where Sophie and I will be.

The longer Sophie didn’t speak to me, the more I regret ever going that far with her. Everything changed once we both decided to be each other’s first. I still think back to that day, conflicted whether or not I’m thinking about it because it’s a bad memory or because I would do it all over again just to feel her that close to me again.

Maybe she’s not avoiding the conversation; she could just be super busy these days. Maybe she just hasn’t had time to hang out… or talk… or anything, really. I was so deep in thought that I also missed my cue to the song again, watching the graduates leave the auditorium as newly high-school graduates.

…

“Yo, Milo!” I hear a girl’s voice call out down the West Wing. I turned around to see it was Veronica; Ronnie for short. I was surprised to have one of Mollie’s friends come up to talk to me.

“Hey, Ronnie,” I said once she got close. She was carrying her clarinet case in one hand, and her music binder in another. “You need a hand, or…?”

“Please,” Ronnie said, handing me her 95-pound binder. I thought dual majors had the encyclopedia sized binders. “Got kicked out of the West Wing for eating my lunch before practicing.”

“You know you can’t eat in those rooms,” I laughed. Ronnie rolled her eyes as she put her lunch back in her bag, followed by the binder. “Your binder weighs a ton, by the way.”

“Thanks, I didn’t realize,” she said in a sarcastic way, adjusting her strap on her backpack. “Make sure you’re fed and hydrated as fuck before going in those rooms; they watch you like a damn hawk in them.” I laughed, completely agreeing with her.

“Noted,” I smiled as I said. Ronnie smiled back at me before picking up her case from the ground.

“I should get going,” Ronnie mentioned. “Thanks again for helping me with my things.”

“Anytime,” I said. I wanted to ask her how Mollie was doing, considering she was now the closest thing to Mollie besides Aaron. I vote against it, not wanting to change the mood or make her feel comfortable. “I’ll see you in Harrison’s class?”

“Sadly,” Ronnie responded, huffing and puffing. “That man needs to take a day off for once; I would love to not have to play this damn instrument today.”

“Felt that,” I said, turning around to walk towards the West Wing. I finally walk past the room that I knew Sophie would be in. She’s a creature of habit. I looked through the small window and see Sophie working on something. I knock on the door, which startles her and closes what she was writing on.

“Hey, Scout,” I said as I opened the door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She immediately asked as she adjusted herself.

“Clearly looking for you,” I jokingly said with a smile. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in a long time.”

“Well, we are in school,” Sophie emphasized.

“And?” I said, getting a bit annoyed at how dismissive she was being.

“And we have things to focus on,” Sophie responded back. “Our last NYSSMA rehearsal before the competition was embarrassing.” Sophie began to pack her things up, and at this point, I was tired of beating around the bush.

“Sophie,” I sternly said. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Doing whatever you’re trying to do,” I replied, now serious. “You keep avoiding me like I did something wrong to you. I would rather you just talk to me about it.”

“Talk about what, exactly?” Sophie began to argue.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Sophie! How do you think it makes me feel knowing that my first time possibly ruined our friendship? I’m here trying to figure out if what we did was a mistake or—”

“It’s always about how you feel, Milo!” Sophie interrupted. “It’s always about you wanting to talk things out when you feel like it. You only want to talk things out last week because you didn’t want this to affect your performance. Now that we have our NYSSMA competition, you want to talk things out so that you play well without any interruptions. You always want to do things your way without ever considering what other people want to do.”

“Then what the hell do you want to do?” I start to shout, growing frustrated at her. “Because it’s sounding like you just want to brush things under the rug like it never happened! Newsflash, Sophie: it did! It happened, we did it, and it ruined our friendship—”

“You ruined our friendship!” I stood up and shouted at Milo.

“Me?!”

“Yes, you! You broke all of the trust I built with you to the point that when I was at my most vulnerable, you took advantage of it for your own agenda!” I was hearing the words coming out of Sophie’s mouth, but I couldn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Were you busy listening to Allen again?’ I scoffed, trying to find some plausible meaning behind that she was talking about.

“What does Allen have to do with this?” Sophie questioned, tilting her head to the side.

“All of a sudden you guys are friends or something? Since when do you talk to Allen Pagani?” I scoffed, questioning Sophie. “You seriously will believe what everyone else says and never me–“

“Allen told me what you told Mollie,” Sophie admitted. “Mollie told Aaron and now Aaron is telling everyone what we did out of spite.” I felt my heart drop straight down my chest and into my stomach. Sophie knows I told Mollie.

“Sophie,” I tried to explain, but she wasn’t having it. She gathered her things, getting ready to leave the rehearsal room.

“Save it,” she finally looks at me in my eyes. I could see just how much this is affecting her. All because I trusted Mollie. “I have other things to focus on.” I looked down in her hands and noticed a folder in them. It’s not hard to recognize the infamous school logo from Julliard on it. I looked up at her as she turned around to exit the room. She got it. She got the Julliard recruitment folder.

…

“Last but certainly not least, we have one of our dancers in our senior division performing a piece for our showcase,” Jennifer began to say. “It’s been an honor to not only have trained such a hardworking, dedicated dancer, but to have seen her grow into the young woman she is today. Please give a round of applause to my sister, Mollie Sue Castro.”

I entered the small stage and see a couple dozen of people sitting in the audience. Parents of other dancers, friends of them as well. I see my own mom in the audience with Alex, smiling from ear to ear. I see my other older sister, Maryette, and her boyfriend Dennis cheering loudly. I see Mr. Kamalani with Micah and the twin girls, staring and smiling at Jennifer. I see Aaron all the way in the back, smiling as I entered the stage and got into my starting position.

My hair is down and curly, and my dance outfit is red, sequin, and reflecting off of the lights from the stage. The music begins to play, and I immediately start dancing.

“That’s… whoa,” Aaron said as I walked out of the fitting room, wearing the red dance outfit. “Red is definitely your color.”

“Jennifer wants me to look like a skinny fire flame on stage,” I said, looking in the dressing room mirror. “What was she thinking picking this hue of red out of all of them?”

“It’s supposed to resemble a fire flame,” Aaron got up from his seat and walked over to me, looking at me in the mirror. He kisses me on the cheek before resting his chin on my shoulder. “I think you look beautiful, Mols.”

“Oh stop,” I playfully teased Aaron, smacking him on his shoulder as I turn around. He smiles at me, holding me now around the waist. I gestured the tailor to come into the fitting room area. “This is perfect.”

We ended up going to the pizza parlor for lunch since it was on our way home. Aaron sits across from me, drinking his cola straight from the can.

“So what time is your dance showcase?” Aaron asked. I rolled my eyes having to answer this question again.

“Babe, I told you like 15 times; it’s at 7PM,” I said, taking a slice of pizza from the box. “You’re starting to make me think you have some short term memory loss or something.”

“I just want to be extra sure,” Aaron said as he opened up his calendar app on his phone. It was shocking to see just how many things he has on that calendar to begin with. He begins typing in a new event for this Saturday in the 7PM slot.

“You have something to do before the show?” I asked Aaron after looking at his calendar. He looks up once he’s finished putting my show on his calendar, like it was a scheduled meeting or something.

“Dean called for an emergency manager’s meeting,” Aaron said, finally taking a slice of pizza to eat.

“What for?” I asked. Aaron just shook his head as he ate his food.

“Nothing for you to worry about, babe,” Aaron said, looking down at his phone when it pings a new notification. He checks it before turning the screen off and looks back up. “That’s Dean’s way of saying that I have to be there when really it’s just us chilling.”

“You and Dean have been hanging out a lot lately,” I pointed out, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“He’s literally my manager, Mols.”

“Yeah, but is there a reason why he has you cutting our hang out time for some unnecessary meeting?” I crossed my arms and looked at Aaron. He rolls his eyes in a dismissive way.

“Once you have a manager for your dance career, you’ll understand the importance of having meetings with them,” Aaron commented.

“Yeah, her name is my sister,” I spat back. Aaron looked up at me, clearly feeling the tension in my words.

“Is she going to be ‘your manager’ forever?”

“What are you trying to imply Aaron?” I was now growing annoyed with him.

“I’m just saying; if you’re going to take dance seriously, you need to take it seriously, like, now.” Aaron forcefully said. It was like I was talking to a business partner, yet alone my own boyfriend. I looked down at my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment on my face. I hear Aaron sigh. “Mols.”

“Clearly you know my dance career better than me,” I commented back, rolling my eyes at him.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Aaron defended. “I know how much dance means to you, and I know just how good you’re at it. I want you to not only just love what you do; you also have to be smart about it.” I don’t say anything else; I simply just didn’t want to at that point. Aaron reached out for my hands across the table. I finally look up at Aaron. Gosh. I can’t take those gentle eyes.

“I just want to spend quality time with my boyfriend,” I squeaked out, trying to hold back the tears. He rubs the top of my knuckles with his thumb for reassurance.

“I promise I will be at your show this weekend, then we can go out for a romantic night out.” Aaron gently said and smiled.

The music stops. I’m trying to catch my breath in the ending position as the audience applauds for me. All I can see in this moment is Aaron, standing and clapping his hands, smiling right at me.

…

“Aaron, where the hell are you even taking me?” I said, walking blindly with only Aaron as a source of direction. His hands cover the majority of my face, guiding me to stand in a certain spot. I opened my eyes and instantly know where we’re at. 318 Mt. Gomerary Place.

I turned back around and looked at Aaron. “This is the place where I first saw you perform.”

“It felt fitting to come here after seeing you dance for the first time tonight,” Aaron mentioned. We walk into the venue, which to my surprise is an actual lounge place when there’s no performances going on. We sit on the balcony level of the venue, looking down at the people sitting in the other tables. It was dim in here with only candlelight really being our source of light.

“Thanks for taking me out tonight,” I said to Aaron. He smiles and shifts in his chair, putting his hand on top of the table, over mine. “And of course, for coming to see me dance.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“Very romantic of you,” I added and giggled, which made Aaron playfully roll his eyes.

“Anything for my girl,” Aaron picked up my hand and kissed it; I immediately felt the butterflies in my stomach. “This is also a thank you for being a part of my dual major performance for the showcase.” I shifted in my seat when Aaron mentioned the showcase. A lot was going on in my head during the performance, and I felt like I could’ve sung so much better than I actually did. On top of that, I felt a wave of guilt for not performing to the best of my ability, yet still being offered the Juilliard prospective students program instead of Aaron. This was his band, and I know just how upset he was hearing that students in Milo’s performance got it over him.

“You know you did just as great in your performance,” I reassured him. He exhaled loudly, as if the thought was choking him from the inside. “And there’s always going to be other opportunities to get recruited.”

“I’m just sad we won’t be doing it together,” Aaron commented. “It would’ve been cool if we got to hang out at Juilliard and pretend we’re college students.” I smiled at the thought, thinking about how life will be in the next couple of years. I can’t believe Freshman year is almost over.

“Do you think about life so far ahead? I can’t seem to remember what I currently have to do,” I said, laughing.

“It keeps me motivated,” Aaron began to explain. “It reminds me that I’m doing everything for a bigger cause.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?” Aaron looked at me before he answered my question. He seems like he was pondering the emotion in itself.

“Sometimes, but that’s just because the future is uncertain. But, if you’re actively working on something, it gives you some insight on how it will look like.” I stare at Aaron as he speaks. I wonder if he thinks about the past in order to be hopeful about the future. Does he remember where he was this time last year? Did he think he’d be sitting in here on a random day in May, celebrating with his girlfriend after her dance show?

“And your past doesn’t haunt you in the process?” I asked honestly. Aaron scrunched his brow, seeming caught off-guard with my question.

“The past is the past for a reason.”

“But doesn’t it affect the decisions you make in the present?”

“Does it for you?” he finally asked back, directing the conversation to me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, not expecting the spotlight to be back on me. I was already in one just a couple of hours ago; I don’t need another one. “Mols?”

I nodded my head. “It makes things difficult.” I looked at Aaron, feeling completely safe with him in this moment. Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs throughout our relationship, but no one outside of my family has ever made me feel as safe like Aaron. It was now my turn to exhale loudly, letting the thought choke itself out. “I was suicidal last year after a boy I really liked embarrassed me at a party. The whole school laughed at me, calling me the school slut and just… it was hard.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Aaron softly consulted. I shake my head, hoping it shook the thought away. It did nothing but make my eyes watery. Aaron reaches for the napkin on his side of the table, leaning to wipe my tears away. “Baby…”

“It’s okay… just… everything that has happened between me and Milo just… made it feel so similar. He accused me of doing something I never would even think of doing. It made me feel like I was being called out my name and… it’s stupid–“

“It’s not,” Aaron intervened. “You experienced a traumatic event, and the way you and Milo dealt with things made it feel real again. But it’s not real, because you’re handling it differently.”

“But what if I slip up? What if it gets to a point where I can’t handle it anymore and–“

“You have me, Mols,” Aaron mentioned. “I wouldn’t ever make you feel like you were the ugly things people have called you before, because they are not true. What is true is that you’re beautiful. Talented. Funny, Smart, Amazing and everything else that makes up Mollie. Everything that makes me love you.” It was then he leaned in and kissed me softly, underneath the candlelight on our table. When we’re done, I look directly into Aaron’s eyes.

“Thank you for seeing me,” I say out loud. “For loving me.” Aaron smiles back at me.

That was the same night Aaron and I finally did it. It. The same thing I gave Milo a hard time with when I found out. At this point, I don’t even care how he got to that point; I understand how he did, and that’s what scares me.

Milo is as love with Sophie as I am with Aaron. He will go to the depths of the earth if it meant he could spend the last days on it with her. I will do the absolute same for Aaron.

But it’s about if the feeling is mutual. That’s when it feels the most real.

-End-

The Unwritten Pages., Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2025

Day 6: That One August Day, Ten Years Later: Written as Milo.

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“Milo!” I shouted across the apartment, packing a couple of snacks into Milo’s knapsack. I shook my head when I don’t get a response back.

It’s a noticeably hot, summer day today; the forecast says it’s going to be at least 95 degrees by the time it hits noon. I fan myself with an envelope left on the kitchen table, hoping to finally get this air conditioner to start working before then.

“Milo!”

“I’m coming!” I hear his voice shout from his room. I walked over to the closed door, opening it to see what was taking him so long. Milo turns around when he hears the door open.

“Dad!” Milo said, shocked. I couldn’t help but sigh seeing the state of his bedroom.

“Milo,” I began to say. “Didn’t I tell you that your room needed to be cleaned before you went to Mollie’s?”

“I couldn’t find my swimming shorts.”

“Bud, they are always in the same place every single year.”

“Not those shorts,” Milo emphasized. I couldn’t help but laugh; Milo has expressed the fact that the swim shorts his grandmother bought him one year were not meant for boys. Of course, Mollie was the one that made the revelation and brought it to Milo’s attention.

“Okay, that’s understandable,” I said before walking into his room as he gathered his things. “I expect this room to be cleaned as soon as I bring you back home.” Milo sighed as he grabbed his book bag from his bed, dragging it towards the exit of the room. It’s not easy being a single father to a nine-year old that tends to act like he’s nineteen.

…

I was grateful for Lydia still letting Milo around Mollie, her youngest daughter. Her and Milo were born just a month apart from each other, and since then they’ve been inseparable. After Pep and I’s falling out last year, I was glad that it didn’t affect Milo’s friendship with Mollie. Oh, to be a kid again when all you fought about with your best friend was who ate the last cookie in the bag at recess.

Leaving Milo with Mollie also gave me time to finish up any assignments for grad school, on top of grading papers for the vocal class I teach at Waverly. It’s a bit surreal to be working at the place where it all started, ten years ago as a freshman. It’s crazy how fast time flies as soon as you graduate from high school.

As I continued to work on some assignments for school, my phone rings. I sigh, knowing exactly who it is. “Hey, man.”

“Milo?” Danny said. “How’d you know it was me?”

“It was either going to be Nicki or you, and knowing just how pregnant your wife is, I doubt she wants to be bothered.” Nicki and Danny got engaged as soon as they graduated college in 2014. With the help of Nicki’s very successful and rich sister, they were able to plan the wedding and ceremony all in a year and a half. They got married last year in April, and it look like they waited no time to get pregnant with their first child.

“Dude,” Danny starts to say. “How’d the hell did you survive a pregnant woman at 15?! Doing it at 25 is seeming impossible!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Danny and I have always been like brothers, even if in the beginning of our friendship it wasn’t like that. It seems like these last couple of months I’ve become more of a OBGYN for him, telling him my experience being around a woman with child.

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” I replied, trying hard to remember what life was like before Milo was born. “How are you guys doing up in Valley Stream anyway?”

“Dude,” Danny begins his sentences with ‘dude’ when he’s going through it. “Between the soccer mom vans and the long drive thru lines through McDonald’s—”

“Wait, what does one have to do with the other?”

“You try having a hangry Nicki sitting in the passenger seat, craving a Big Mac with two fish patties instead of the beef patty and having the drive-thru worker look at her like she’s an alien or some shit.”

“It sounds like you have a lot on your hands,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “Meanwhile, I’m sitting here in my apartment kid-free for the whole day. Cherish these times, Danny.” He deadpans over the phone as I get up from my seat, walking to the balcony door and opening it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny dismissed. “You’re still coming to the baby shower next weekend, right?”

“Of course,” I answered, leaning on the railing of the balcony and looking out towards the neighborhood. “What kind of godfather would I be not showing up?”

“You’re still on this godfather thing,” Danny stated unenthusiastically stated instead of asking. “What’s text? You’re going to talk with an Italian accent and smoke a fat cigar?”

“I don’t know who you’re going to have to break the news to, but I’ve called dibs on godfather as soon as you guys told me you were expecting. Being ‘Uncle Milo’ isn’t enough!” Before Danny said anything else, I could Nicki shout from the back; possibly about her phone being used for this phone call. A little tussling was heard before I heard the phone go still. “Danny?”

“Please take Danny out of the house,” Nicki began to say. “I’m trying to organize all this shit in the nursery and he’s literally up my ass like—”

“Hi, Nic,” I finally said before she go too detailed.

“Hi, Milo,” she sighed as she answered. I smiled; I can only imagine how uncomfortable she’s been. Gwen was a lot to handle towards the end of her pregnancy with Milo, and a lot of that was just being uncomfortable all the time. “Can you please take Danny out for the day?”

“I sent my kid to his friend’s house already,” I teased, knowing what to expect as an answer.

“Just fucking take him, Milo!” She yelled. “For fuck’s sake, I’m just trying to get everything in order before this fucking baby shower and everything is hurting and I’m stressed and—” I hear her voice crack. Ah, yes; the hormones.

“Okay, okay; I’m sorry,” I quickly said before Nicki started to cry. “Tell your man to meet me at my place; we’ll go and do guy things while you get your mommy things done.”

“Thank you,” she simply said before shouting away from the phone. “Danny I will be fine! Go, before I divorce you for being too fucking annoying!” The phone hangs up and I can’t help but shake my head and laugh.

…

“Four hours?!” I repeated to the technician, who’s knee deep in the AC unit in my apartment. “You’re telling me this is going to take four hours to fix?”

“We have to turn off this circuit to access the mechanic causing the system to jam,” the technician said, grunting as he got up from the ground. “I would suggest finding a cooler spot to hang out in while we fix this.” As if this was some sort of 90’s sitcom, Danny arrives at my open front door, giving it a courtesy knock before looking into the apartment.

“Dude, it’s hot as fuck in here,” Danny pointed out. I held the bridge of my nose, letting out a deep sigh. I looked at the technician before speaking.

“Please call me when the AC is fixed; I’ll find some place to go in the meantime,” I said before gathering everything I needed in order to kill time. Danny follows me throughout the apartment before we both finally head on out on this hot, August day.