So there you are…sitting at a desk in the local library, your computer open to a spreadsheet titled “Budget” and tears streaming down your face. The true definition of adulting.
If anything, my bf and I were getting sick of each other. And cuffing season wasn’t real. Or so I thought. Then came November, it was like falling in love all over again.
“Do you do drugs, like, all the time?”
Why, as women, do we love heels so much? Because with a simple pair we are transformed. We’re not just women. Suddenly we’re bada** b*tches with a purpose.
“Is this going to be graded?”
Build a bada** fort.
“I was the most nervous person in the world, sweaty hands and feet, and I kept putting on Chapstick because I thought it would make my lips taste better.”
You regularly have to deny that you ever claimed your last boyfriend was “definitely The One.”
It’s freeing, getting drunk on a Monday. One of those spontaneous, semi-reckless, but absolutely necessary decisions.
I want your eye contact when we speak. No video games. No cell phones. No computer screens. Just me and you, your brown eyes locked on my face.