I used to think you were the wall. Solid. Unmoving. There, whether I liked it or not. A man I pushed against, measured myself against, resented at times without fully understanding why. I thought your silence meant distance. I thought your restraint meant lack. I thought if I ever became
Fragments
The book went out into the world this week. A strange sentence to write. For years the material existed only as notes; fragments written late at night, after difficult conversations, after moments of clarity that arrived without warning. They were not meant to be published. They were attempts to understand
Fragments
There was a time when I believed these conversations mattered. Men debating masculinity online. Arguments about strength, responsibility, leadership, freedom, identity. Everyone seemed certain that the discussion itself was important. For a while, I participated in it. Not aggressively, but with curiosity. I watched the arguments unfold. I listened to
Fragments
Nora Selah, You will not read this for a long time. By the time these words reach you, the man writing them will no longer exist in quite the same way. That is the quiet law of fatherhood: the moment a man becomes a father, he begins disappearing and rebuilding