You think you know your possibilities. Then other people come into your life and suddenly there are so many more.
We walk into a bar, and you’re aware of all the eyes on you. We walk into a bar, and I’m aware of all the eyes on you, too. For you, this translate into confidence. But me? All I can feel is doubt.
I try to be a careful person. Most of the time my carelessness is completely unintentional.
You are so close, and I can’t reach you.
Told her she was beautiful. Didn’t give up when she didn’t believe me.
Every single answer starts with the phrase ‘I don’t know.’ But most of the time she does know, if I give her the time and the space in which to answer.
Measure the hope of that moment, that feeling. Everything else will be measured against it.
This is the thing they don’t tell you about being a third wheel – it’s not like you’re the wheel that’s added on. You were one of the original two wheels, but suddenly you’re not so important anymore. The relationship drives fine without you.
The boy I loved didn’t know I existed. Then again, he was obsessed with Camus, so he didn’t know if any of us existed.
Neophyte, n. There are millions upon millions of people who have been through this before – why is it that no one can give my good advice?
You don’t know, but I’m noticing.
And I, who have never thought in terms of a life, think to myself that I could make a life out of this.
There is certainty in a ring. The non-ending, the non-beginning. The ongoing. The way it holds on to you not because it’s fastened or stretched or adhered. It holds on because it fits.
Why do we even bother? Why do we make ourselves so open to such easy damage? Is it all loneliness? Is it all fear? Or is it just to experience those narcotic moments of belonging with someone else?
But the thing about a cry for help is that someone else needs to be around to hear it.
I barely notice colors unless I taste them. Not the yellows or the greens. I taste the deeper blues. The darker reds.
If I’m not telling you something, it’s for a reason. Just because you trust me, it doesn’t mean I have to automatically trust you. Trust doesn’t work like that.
Every day I am someone else. I am myself-I know I am myself-but I am also someone else. It has always been like this.
But if I didn’t want to be alone, then why didn’t I want to be with anyone else?
I don’t want to know anything, and I want to know it all.