Thought Catalog

I Could Taste Her Broken Heart

She tasted like the wine I swam in when I was freshly broken, and like the confusion I once called my best friend. She reminded me of the huckleberries we’d eat before they were fully ripe, but we liked the way they bit our tongues so we kept coming back for more.

A History Of Trying To Be Cool

It’s such a terrible feeling to want to reject who you are. The reality is that I was not built to be an Olsen twin. I was not built to sit around doing coke with people who looked amazing in Balenciaga.

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