Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Men.

The Yard's Embrace
The clunk of Elias's boots on the porch steps echoed too loud in the silent dusk. Another day done. Another shift welding rusted frames down at the yard. His hands, thick with calluses and streaked with grease, fumbled with the key. The door groaned open, revealing the same empty hallway, the same scent of old wood and the faintest ghost of lilac, Sarah's favorite. He tossed his keys onto the small table by the door, the jingle a sudden, sharp intrusion. He didn't bother with the lights. No point. The house felt bigger in the dark anyway, swallowing him whole.
By HAADI7 days ago in Men
The Static of Wool
Unit 734, or just Seventy-Three to the few who bothered, powered on with the familiar low hum in his chassis. Diagnostic checks scrolled through his optical sensors, green and precise: all systems nominal. But today, the usual clarity was smudged. A residue, a phantom sensation, lingered in his peripheral processing units. Not data. Not a task. Something...soft. Impossibly, bewilderingly soft, like something alive, yet humming with a faint, electrical current.
By HAADI8 days ago in Men
The Weight of White
Arthur rolled onto his back. The ceiling was just a deeper shade of black than the rest of the room. Two AM. Always two AM. Always the damn ticking of the old grandfather clock downstairs, a rhythm that used to annoy Martha but now just felt like the only thing keeping time in a house that otherwise forgot what it was. He sighed, a raspy sound that snagged in his throat. Couldn’t sleep. Not with the wind scratching at the windows like some starved thing wanting in.
By HAADI9 days ago in Men
The Silent Struggle: Understanding the Real Issues Men Face Today
From childhood, society tells them: “Be tough. Don’t cry. Handle it yourself.” While these messages may be intended to prepare men for life’s challenges, the truth is far more complicated and far more human.
By Coach Penny9 days ago in Men
Ancient Chinese Soups and Tonics for Prostate Wellness
There’s a quiet wisdom in the steam that rises from a simmering pot, a kind of magic that modern medicine, for all its miracles, sometimes overlooks. When you’re dealing with a persistent, nagging issue like chronic prostatitis, it’s easy to feel like your life is dictated by prescriptions and doctor’s visits. The discomfort, the urgency, the constant low-grade stress—it can wear you down. But what if part of the path to healing wasn’t found in a bottle, but in a bowl?
By George10 days ago in Men
The Moon's Brutal Embrace
Frank woke up to the clock radio’s red digits glaring 3:17 AM. Again. Always 3:17. Like a silent alarm set years ago that refused to turn off. The air in the bedroom felt thick, stale, even with the window cracked a sliver. Beside him, the bed was empty. Had been empty for three years, seven months, two weeks, and four days. Not that he was counting. He wasn’t. Not really. But the numbers, they just… stuck.
By HAADI10 days ago in Men
Bleeding Lights on Wet Pavement
Leo watched the rain fall, splattering against the grimy window of The Hideaway. Each drop smeared the neon 'OPEN' sign across the street, turning the crisp red into a pulsing, liquid bruise. The air inside the bar was thick with stale beer and unspoken histories, a smell Leo knew better than his own aftershave. He took a drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing hot, then faded. Another Tuesday night. Another storm rolling through the city, washing the grit into the gutters, leaving the asphalt shiny and black.
By HAADI11 days ago in Men
a Text Message
Them - “¿Cómo estás?” (How’ve you been?) Me - Do you want the truth or a lie? Them - Oh my god…. Me – Oh my god what? I’ve been miserable without you! I cared about you very much dude, you were my bro, and I thought we had a lot of laughs and fun together. Despite everything that happened between us, as well as the torture I put myself, family and friends through, there hasn’t been a day since we parted that I haven’t thought of you. Your laugh, your smile, your Puerto Rican accent and the dramatic way you yawn, all your freckles, spread out across your face, neck and head, 27 I counted; Te extraño mucho con todo mi alma y corazón. Yet, I don’t understand what I did or what I said to make you not want to fight for our friendship. You honestly couldn’t have cared less, but here you are, randomly “checking up” on me, why do you still have my number? Don’t you remember when I needed you the most you left me high and dry? Some soldier you are, leaving your fellow man and assigned partner behind. I never turned my back on you and whenever you needed anything, I was happily right there with it or went out of my way to get it, just for you. Back to when I saved myself, you had the nerve to act like everything ok and just fine, like you hadn’t just turned your back on me in front of the class and instructor; how did you just sit there quietly, knowing full and well that the week previous, you were in the same spot, and I immediately threw you a life line? Something I won’t ever understand, but I forgave you almost instantaneously and later reached out to you to save our friendship, I texted you, remember? All you had to say was, that I was being dramatic, you weren’t gay, didn’t need this drama and you needed to focus on school. You totally and absolutely missed my point entirely, it wasn’t about being gay dude, I’m sorry you’ve never had anyone care about you, like I did. So I granted your wish and acted invisible, yet you refused to let it be and for the remainder of the term you did everything you possibly could to get my attention, talking loud being even more obnoxious than you already were, you even tried to make me jealous with that ogre Veronica and her tipsy Jeep driving friend, Sarah. Despite all of that bs, you didn’t have the testicular fortitude to speak to me like a man and voice what was wrong, how you felt and what we could do to fix it; even if that meant not being friends anymore, we in the least bit could’ve had some closure. For many weeks we were inseparable dude, you were my best friend bro, my sanctuary, the time you entered my life I was so lost, alone, and sad; just trying to restart my life for the better. The opposite happened though, I flunked out of nursing school, wound up seeing a therapist three times a week for several months, went through a major depression, thought about what would happen if I wasn’t “here” anymore, got prescribed happy pills, and I alienated myself from my family for being honest about everything. The last day of school, I emailed you to say goodbye properly and gain some kind of a closure for myself, I apologized for ever making you feel uncomfortable and still left a window open in case you ever needed anything…I still haven’t received a response. Dude, you were the Logan to my Wade Wilson….. I haven't forgotten you, or won't ever forget the fun times we had, going to lunch together, talking about shows and movies; remember "WHERE IS SHE!!" lol. I will never be able to look at Batman without thinking about you, same goes for watching the Last of Us, Stranger Things, Tom Segura, playing Mortal Kombat, and listening to Disturbed, Ozzy, Linkin Park, and Jay-Z….
By Vinny B.12 days ago in Men
The Intimacy Paradox: Navigating Sex When You Have Prostatitis
It often begins as a quiet hum of discomfort, a persistent ache that settles deep in the pelvis. For millions of men, a diagnosis of chronic prostatitis brings with it not just physical pain but a cloud of unspoken anxiety that follows them into their most private moments. It’s a condition shrouded in whispers and what-ifs, leading to late-night internet searches and a gnawing question that many are hesitant to ask their doctors, let alone their partners: Is sex off the table?
By Health For You12 days ago in Men
Feast Without Fear: A Guide to Navigating Holiday Dinners with Chronic Prostatitis
The air is thick with the scent of roasting spices, the warm glow of conversation, and the clinking of glasses. The New Year’s feast is a ritual of connection, a vibrant tapestry of flavors and laughter. It’s a time to indulge, to celebrate, to feel the warmth of family and friends. But for many men, a quiet, nagging shadow looms over the festivities. It’s the hidden discomfort of chronic prostatitis—that familiar, dull ache, the constant, anxious urge to use the restroom, and the fear that one wrong bite could turn a joyous occasion into a night of pain.
By Amanda Chou12 days ago in Men
The Unstamped Burden
The kitchen light hummed, a low, buzzing thing that did little to cut the gloom. Arthur sat at the scarred oak table, knuckles white where they gripped the edge of a tumbler. Ice clinked against the glass, the sound sharp in the midnight quiet. A half-empty bottle of Old Crow, its label peeling, stood sentinel beside a stack of old mail. He’d been staring at the same letter for an hour, maybe two, the yellowed envelope feeling heavier than a brick in his hand. The address, scrawled years ago in his own hurried script, was still legible: Michael J. Brennan, General Delivery, Phoenix, Arizona. A ghost address, really. He hadn't known where Mikey was, not really, not since the day the younger man walked out and didn't bother to look back.
By HAADI12 days ago in Men
Why Your Prostate Keeps Score, and the 6 Mistakes You’re Probably Making Right Now
“Doc, is it bad? Will I ever get back to normal?” The question hung in the sterile air of the exam room, thick with anxiety. Ryan, a 45-year-old taxi driver, sat hunched on the chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the lab report that had just upended his world. For a decade, his body had been his reliable workhorse, enduring long hours, punishing deadlines, and the quiet abuses of his profession. Now, it was finally sending him a bill.
By Amanda Chou13 days ago in Men