The Golden Couple

by Greer Hendricks

Twelve minutes ago, they breezed into my office—glamorous, affluent, enviable. The golden couple. Now the underlying tarnishes they’ve never allowed the public to see are already beginning to show.

Sometimes the simplest explanation is the correct one, but I can no longer risk making those kinds of assumptions.

Sometimes, we need to look at our lives from a different angle to recognize the dysfunction and damage certain relationships are causing.

Insomnia can grip us for many reasons: stress, guilt, fear, and rage are among them. An uneasy mind is difficult to quiet.

I didn’t mourn my husband when he died. I’d already come to terms with losing him. I finally felt free.

People tend to extend more trust to individuals who are attractive; studies have proven this.

You told me the first time you kissed Marissa, it was like glimpsing the ocean for the first time. The next time you see her, tell her this.

One percent of the population is composed of psychopaths, and most of them aren’t the homicidal criminals we envision. We’ve all encountered them: people who seem charming and charismatic, but who lie without remorse and manipulate and deceive.

You can never truly know what is inside another person’s heart or head,

TIME IS A CHAMELEON. It’s ever changing, cannily adapting to circumstances.

Grief is a shape-shifter. It defies logic, sneaking up on you when you least expect it and leaving you empty-handed and hollowed out when you go searching for it.

Grief isn’t linear. It isn’t logical. There’s no structure or civility to it; it grabs you when you least expect it and digs in its nails until you succumb.