“How do I stop loving a girl who doesn’t love me,” someone asked me.
I am the kind of person who longs for. Who savors. Who stockpiles hotel keys, t-shirts left behind. Who saves letters not for the words they contain but for the handwriting, for the hands that brushed the page.
People change their minds, and months and miles rip away comfort and certainty and leave doubt in their place.
“Every life is many days, day after day.”
“The passing of time and all of its sickening crimes is making me sad again.”
It was his teeth that did me in. Perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth.
I want to let the redness of you stain my smile. I’m thirsty for these moments. I wish to abandon sense and reason, to fly from sober solemn silences and get loud with you, to laugh with you with complete and reckless abandon.
Lena Dunham is big business. Just her name evokes the strongest of human reactions.
So, here’s your situation: You got laid off. Or you left your job. Or you just can’t find what you’re looking for. Regardless of your personal situation, any of the above means you are unemployed.
I spent Friday cleaning out my desk and leaving instructions for my successors.