LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.

LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“We do not take her out of the house. Her life depends on it. We are trying our best to plan ahead, but as stores quickly lose stock and people hoard items to resell at an upcharge, we have begun to scramble. She is immunocompromised.”
“Gag me with a spoon, right? I wasn’t sure it was true. I mean, who would leave this fine specimen of the male species? He asked for my number and we agreed to meet for coffee. It was snowing, pretty hard. This guy offered to drive over an hour in it to see me. This was a big. freaking. deal.”
“I totally cried. As my mom told them, I hid behind my tea mug (it was a pretty big mug) because I didn’t want them to see me crying. I thought I was strong enough to not. Of course, my dad then joined as well and stated, ‘Yeah, I’m straight, I like women.’ We all laughed as he looked at my mom.”
“I stood behind him, yelling to my husband to watch as I clapped repeatedly behind his head loudly. He didn’t even flinch. I said, ‘He’s deaf, right?’ When he was in elementary school, he was physically abused by a speech pathologist. I reached out to anyone and everyone for help, but I was left empty-handed for a very long time.”
“There it was. Or should I say, there she was. Mystery solved. She helped me craft a letter. My husband was having an affair. He felt I had abandoned him when he needed me most. He was an easy mark for any woman. I would pray my husband would have a heart for me. My husband was becoming a new man.”
“Today when I was met with a disproving look, one of shock and full of judgement about her not wanting to toilet train. I confidently shook my head and I proudly said, ‘She will do it. In her own time.'”
“When I walked in, she hugged me. I whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t f*@King ask how I’ve been, because I’ve been better. Now can we please do something about my gray hairs.’ The worst is always ‘time will heal.’ You think every day for the rest of my life I won’t think about her and it won’t break my heart all over again?’ It sends me into an internal rage.”
“I forgot to send my kid to school with shoes….again. I cry the entire way home. I throw myself a pity party on what my life was supposed to look like. But then I get the little boy who has been handed a very hard life. The teen mom who has nowhere to turn, and the drug addicted mother who lives a life of regret. I will get too attached every single time. And that’s definitely a good thing.”
“The daydreams of twenty-something freedom felt gone. We were just another measured ‘teen mother’ statistic that pigeonholed our future. I was scared and unsure, but my husband never doubted. We didn’t just decide to rock the boat. We decided to sell the ‘boat’ and trade it for a set of wings, a huge dose of optimism, and faith in the unknown future.”
“As you both passed the side of my car, your son, still trying to catch up with your pace, made contact with mine. My son threw his cup and flung his head back in frustration. He couldn’t tell me what he needed; he is non-verbal. He didn’t know someone had noticed him, someone called him his friend.”
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