I don’t know why I keep thinking pain means romance. Or sacrifice means “I want you” but maybe I’ll start going back to therapy tomorrow. Or next week. It’s just so easy when we make couches here. We’re just so good at being bad for each other.

“Watch Netflix for nine days without taking a bathroom break! Eat pizza until even your sweatpants can no longer accommodate your bulging love handles! Forget to send your grandma thank you notes for the past 27 birthday cards!” says the swagged out millennial demon inside us all.