olivia tokar

W ords will never be able to bear the weight of what I wanted to say. My thoughts were too heavy and any words I wrote crumbled beneath them, not able to successfully carry what I wanted to communicate. I decided the simplest solution was to stop trying.  I clicked my pen shut and put my diary in its safe place behind the stack of novels on my nightstand shelf.   I finally had a stretch of weeks with no plans, a luxury I had not had since starting college three years ago, but all that meant was I was forced to slow down enough to stop ignoring my emotions. Finally, I got up and left my bedroom to go downstairs for a lunch.  My dad was in the kitchen, leaning against the white countertops and holding his usual lunchtime mug of coffee. Saturday's felt thicker and slower than the maple syrup I had put on toaster waffles that morning. My dad seemed to feel the same sensation, like walking through a pool of ankle-deep water. Not a barrier strong enough to stop you from walking...

I.           I wondered if I had made the worst mistake of my life.  I lifted the skirts of my navy dress above my ankles to avoid stepping on it as I climbed the stairs to reach what felt like the end of my life. I noticed through my dread it would be a beautiful end: the overwhelmingly large, white house, whose stairs I was climbing, was cast in the warm fading lights of the day. A soft pallet of colors was created, matching the light shining out the windows around the silhouettes of many figures.  At the top of the staircase, I stood in front of the dark wooden doors, taking a breath before I entered. I barely cracked the door open when music mixed with the sound of voices striving to be heard over one another overwhelmed my ears. I was afraid I would stand out for being as underdressed as I was; however, I soon realized no one noticed me at all. I didn’t like big parties, they always made me feel more than alone. Being alone is being ...

The cool blast of AC hits me in the face in a refreshing wind as I enter the store. I look down at my daughter, now almost half as tall as me, and enjoy the comical sight of the pigtails she won't want to wear much longer bouncing on top of her head. I am always confused when she asks to come to the hardware store with me, but I take every moment she asks to spend with me without question. I let her admire the flowers on display in small pots right inside the door. "Dad, can I get this one?" She asks holding up a hot pink flower with two wilting petals left on it. It's only a dollar. "Yes, but let's pick one with more flowers and leaves huh?" I squat down and help her find one in better shape. She carries it proudly as we walk toward the faucet aisle. The half-bath in our house has needed a new one for a long time and I finally decided today was the day to stop putting it off. I grab the faucet that matches the others in the house and check to ...