June, a landmark month in many ways: it was my first time I was responsible for my own rent, food, and employment. Adulting is hard! I spent most of the month merely adjusting to the new independence. I’ve enjoyed myself immensely, but I’ve also already learned a lot within these few weeks.
This past semester, I felt locked in a post-you era. Even though, after you said those fateful words — “I’m not looking for a relationship” — I stopped liking you and even stopped hurting for you, I failed to restart, like some stuttering obsolete computer. I felt like I couldn’t, not without some sort of signal to transition. I wanted to flip over the page to the next chapter of my life, but it felt like the same chapter kept going on and on — even though different stuff started happening, even though you stopped being a character. I guess I wanted to look up at the night sky and see the stars aligned in the words: THE END. I wanted a sign.
But now, the semester is over. There is no boundary as definitive as the beginning of sweet summer. I brush the dust of you and my leftover feelings into the container called Freshman Year and seal it off for good. Continue reading
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about what even is the point of having friends, family, and lovers. Especially since — if you think about it — the definitions of these things are so abstract and bendable sometimes. After all, isn’t a group of friends like a found family — a beautiful little eclectic clan brought together by chance? And doesn’t a family sometimes feel like people who you’re expected to be friends with for a lifetime? Isn’t a lover just a best friend that you also sleep with — or are friends just lovers that you don’t sleep with? I guess the confusing thing is that the word “love” blankets all these categories — sure, you can add modifiers like “platonic,” “familial,” and “romantic,” but our clumsy language includes that baffling universal solvent: L O V E. Continue reading
The close conversation had reached that point where we had run out of superficial, cheery things to say. I wrung my hands as a thought forced itself into speech: I had been afraid that saying it aloud would make a tentative idea more real than it actually was, but I couldn’t help it, it had been haunting me for too long:
“Um, I don’t know,” I began slowly. “I think, more than anything, I want to be in a relationship. I know that’s a lame thing to say…I believe in feminism and independence and all that, but…it’s true.”
I lowered my head and blushed as my friend reassured me, but I couldn’t help but taste the aftertaste of a remark that was not articulated finely enough. Because, in truth, I enjoy being single. I like going to concerts and kissing strangers without worrying about someone back home. I like quiet moments by myself. And I see people constantly holding hands, constantly spending the night in each others’ dorms and I think: I don’t want that. I don’t want all of that, at least not all the time.
But I definitely want something. Continue reading
There was no obliviating fade to black, and then a reemergence of consciousness and light. I had been laying in the diluted dark for hours, listening to him breathe deeply next to me, tiptoeing to the bathroom, until the gradient of day and night pulled itself over the horizon, shifted across his bare apartment, and the birds began to chirp. Continue reading
Some ironic and silly, others heart-crushingly emotional.
❤ Ever since we met // I only shoot up with your perfume // it’s the only thing // that makes me I feel as good as you do. — Panic! at the Disco
❤ I don’t care what’s in your hair, I just wanna know what’s on your mind. I used to say I wanna die before I’m old but because of you I might think twice. — Twenty One Pilots
❤ Somebody told the stars you’re not coming out tonight // so they found a place to hide — Arctic Monkeys Continue reading
Safe to say I’ve had an emotionally distraught start to the semester, for a variety of reasons. But I healed myself, surrounded myself with the right people, and at the end of this dark January, I feel more like the bouyant, happy girl I was last semester — just a little more grown up now.
I’m not holding the door open for him (letting the cold air pour in, numbing my ankles), but I’m not slamming it and bolting the lock either.
Right now I think the door is ajar, leaving me an indulgent and toxic crevice for me to peek out of, for those moments when I pretend I don’t know better. Slowly but surely, I’m drawing it shut, and one day I know I will finally close it in peace.
But I know that I will not lock it — oh, not for a long time. It means that a brief visit, a careless turn of the knob, will swing it wide again. That frightens me.
I don’t want to let him in again. I only want him back if he comes to the threshold with flowers, wipes his feet on the mat — plans to stay.
So there’s you and me and a precipice, and I saw jagged rocks under the cliffside, when I was near you.
But inherently, I trust you, and after pulling back, I looked at you from afar and decided to make a running leap.
I’m making a desperate dash for you, in the hopes that it’s not so desperate after all. Continue reading
- HE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU
- You don’t know him that well. He doesn’t know you that well.
- He’s great, but he’s not perfect. He’s not everything.
- You don’t have to unfold a whole story in one text. Chop it up and stretch it out. Let him respond to each bit. Keep it light.
- At no point do you have to say : “I like you.” This is college. Intimacy and friendship and romance (can) mingle together. You don’t have to declare anything at each boundary.
- Chill tf out.
- It would be nice to date him. But it’s not the end of the world if you don’t. You have options. (Fun options).
- HE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.