discovery:

there are no short-haired wedding dress models.

newsflash:

i'm getting married.

commence long series of self-realizations and tangential thought processes.

second impressions

they can't be first impressions, because those were all formed over the summer and in september when i first arrived, when my life was immeasurably different than it is now (funny how quickly that can happen). i spent my first three months in Boston in complete and total unemployment, and it took me four months to start my full-time job. those kinds of impressions are different than the ones that are made when you settle into a routine.

this is something i had heard about bigger-city living, and i'm glad i'm getting the opportunity to experience it: i don't feel like i live in the city of Boston as much as i feel like i live in my neighborhood. my entire life--groceries, laundry, work, home, odds & ends--can be accomplished within walking distance. there's something to be said about that kind of insularity, something i didn't expect to find here.

it's kind of a cool feeling. i don't know my neighbors, per se, but there are familiar characters. it occurs to me that i might be a familiar character to some of them by now. i have a preference for the convenience store on my corner over the one on the next block. i'm friendly with the employees at the two closest beer stores. all of this takes place within a few blocks of the same street.

i like this part of living in a city, at least for right now.

grief

i keep seeing this girl who wears your leather bomber jacket
it makes me think of the way your hair smelled when it started pouring down rain in the park
i smile, because the memory is beautiful
even if the moment was impermanent--
all beautiful things are.

the bittersweetness arrives in the question:
am i missing someone who isn't anymore?
or am i missing someone who never was?

The Pro-Child, Pro-Choice Manifesto

I value reproductive justice in large part because parenthood will never come easily for me. It can't happen by accident. I value children, and I do not take the opportunity to raise them for granted (in fact, I resent that there are people who have that luxury). It seems unfair to them, to the children themselves, that so many people who desperately want them can't raise them, and so many who have neither the resources nor the inclination to do so are faced with raising them.

Reproductive justice means more than abortion. It means the right to choose how, whether, and when you raise a family. It means better lives for children. It means parents who are more prepared. It means not just the ability to say no, I will not have a child, regardless of how I express my adult relationships. It also means the freedom to say yes, I want to provide a loving home for a child, to foster them into independent adulthood.

Reproductive justice is about repairing the world. It means creating better homes and stronger families. It means children who believe that they are gifts rather than burdens. It means having the choice to begin and sustain a healthy pregnancy, to prevent pregnancy, to terminate a pregnancy, to avoid and treat life-threatening conditions, to raise a child, to know one's partner thoroughly before embarking on the shared adventure that is parenthood, or to know oneself thoroughly before embarking on it alone. Reproductive justice is the creation of a world where everyone is loved, by others and by self. Reproductive justice is a world in which education precludes abortion--abortion, which is an indignity not just for the child, but for the mother. Reproductive justice is dignity. It is the empowerment of women and the education of men. It is the equalization of heteros and homos, single and married, parent and childless, cis and trans. Reproductive justice is justice.