LBE is a series of essays exploring heartbreak, grief, tending to old wounds, reclaiming longing and fearing getting stuck there. I believe it is also my first memoir being written. I have no idea where I am going ! But I promise to keep you posted about what it means to write a memoir.
Here you can read last chapters:
Introduction Part 1: new place, old wounds
Introduction Part 2: Part 2: kissing as art practice
Chapter 3: The problem isn’t polyamory, it is that I am Black in it.
Chapter 4: Why be one thing when you could be it all?
Some people you get to know slowly — detail after detail, like dropping marbles into a jar, each small clink settling into place. Others you recognize before you know them. Their presence folds into you as if it has always been there. With them, the details of your lives remain just that: details, slipping in and out like passing scenery, while their face stays sharply lit at the center of your attention.
You can’t help but keep the lights on their perfect face.
Their perfect face.
You feel stripped bare when they look at you. And yet, ever since they stepped into your life, it’s as if the sun decided to linger—shine warmer, stay longer— and here you are, naked in that light, a random Tuesday afternoon in Berlin in spring, wondering what life even was before this.
Every moment together feels like a movie you could watch forever, the backdrop shifting and dissolving, while they remain the steady center of your orbit. This stranger you’ve somehow always known becomes your star, the one you can’t stop orienting yourself toward without thinking.
How good it feels to realize you don’t have to be the only star of your own movie, how unexpectedly tender it feels to discover you don’t need to hold the entire sky by yourself or shine alone. And when you think of your life before they entered it, the question rises almost on its own: why be a lone star, when you could be a constellation?
