Posted inLove
The Night We Decided Not to Cheat
It happened on a wet Thursday in November, the kind of rain that makes Dublin shine and look disappointed in you. I was in Whelan’s on Wexford Street with people from work,…
Posted inLove
The One Person I Never Stopped Missing
I used to think missing someone was a dramatic thing, the kind of feeling that made people stand in the rain outside train stations or write long letters they never sent. Then…
Posted inLove
She Loved Me but Couldn’t Forgive Me
I met Niamh on a wet Thursday outside the Luas stop at Smithfield, both of us standing under the same broken umbrella like two eejits pretending it was doing any good. She…
Posted inLove
The Love Triangle That Destroyed Christmas
I used to think Christmas could survive anything if there was enough food on the table and enough people pretending not to notice the cracks. In our house in Phibsborough, my mam…
Posted inLove
He Chose His Career Over Our Love
I met Conor on a wet Tuesday evening outside Pearse Station, both of us trapped under the same narrow shop awning while rain came down like someone had opened the sky with…
Posted inLove
We Pretended to Be Friends After Everything
For three months after we broke up, we kept meeting as if nothing had happened. That was the strangest part. Not the breakup itself, not the crying in my box room in…
Posted inLove
I Found My Husband’s Dating Profile by Accident
I found it on a Tuesday evening, which is a cruelly ordinary day for something like that to happen. I was sitting in a café near Stoneybatter, waiting for my friend Ciara,…
Posted inLove
The Marriage That Ended Over One Secret
I met Cian on a wet Thursday outside the Abbey Theatre, both of us sheltering under the same useless strip of awning while the rain came down like loose change. He offered…
Posted inLove
I Thought Lust Was Love Until It Was Too Late
I met him outside Whelan’s on a wet Friday night when Camden Street was shining like someone had polished it with rain. I was twenty-eight, working in a solicitor’s office near St…
Posted inLove
The Last Hug Before She Moved to Australia
The morning she left, Dublin was doing that thing where it can’t decide if it wants to rain or forgive you. The paths outside my flat in Phibsborough were wet, but the…