Tag Archives: Love

Married a Little – MFA in writing Week 1

Here’s what I am reading out loud at the MFA residency workshop today.

FYI – I am changing from fiction to non-fiction as a concentration. Those kids are way cooler. Also, this all really happened.


My first wedding was performed by my college biology professor. He talked about how we were the result of millions of years of evolution, because I wouldn’t let him talk about God for some reason I can’t remember – I have a pretty big bug up my ass about God, I think. But mostly I remember the daggers shooting at me from the women who loathed me for breaking up the Jan and Andy house of fun for single women, and the video record of the ceremony that was mostly shots of the sky, taken by Andy, my husband’s best friend who was annoyed I hadn’t married him. But it was very much a first come first served situation.

Funny thing is, the woman Andy ended up marrying, turned out to be a lesbian. Our money was on me, but it didn’t go that way. At least not yet.



Susannah Raulino



1995 Selfie

A John Hiatt mix has me thinking, I didn’t realize how close I was to walking away, or how much of me had already walked away. Age, loneliness and failure take a toll. And I always knew the moment it had all turned south, June 10th, 1995. The advent of a great love. OK, something should have told me, the day my tongue turned sheet white and never turned back, something went wrong. That love wasn’t love at all. That love was an elaborate, creative, timeless plot to kill me. To kill myself. I am not walking away from love. I will see you where we are together in a love that breathes, that rejoices, that is kind, that has faith, that forgives, that is filled with wonder. Until then, I won’t walk alone, because now I have love. Now I remember what it was like on June 9th, 1995, when I had a will to live.

Me in 1995

1995 Selfie



Reverse Arctic Winter

I have stopped expecting the out of doors to be inhabitable in Austin from mid-June to mid-October, and so I am not disappointed, nor do I complain about the heat in summer anymore.  It is reverse Arctic winter.

I had done the same with my relationships (an area of actual arctic winter), not expecting to get much, to give much, to discover or share much in them.  Then I recently read this at the tail end of the book The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner “… now I realize that Karma (a Bhutanese scholar and cancer survivor) meant exactly what he said.  Our happiness is completely and utterly intertwined with our people: family and friends and neighbors and the woman you hardly notice who cleans your office.  Happiness is not a noun or a verb.  It’s a conjunction.  Connective tissue.”

Reading this I realized that this was something I always wished was true, but had been told wasn’t. “Happiness is up to you,” “happiness is within you,” “be happy with yourself first,” and so many other pop-psychology directives of the late 20th century rattle around in my head. I even foolishly took a six year sabbatical from relationships until I got in “a better place.”  The thing is, I never really did, because you don’t learn about love by being alone. Good, bad, or 50/50, relationships are how we learn, grow, and love. They are like air, water, and food. They are necessary for life.

I feel like such a dumbass for missing that in the welcome brochure that is every natural instinct in my heart that I continually ignore. I wonder what else I wish was true, actually is true.

Thawing out, in Austin. Susannah Raulino