I envy how they exist—just to be loved and taken care of. Just to be held and played with and smiled at. Just to be the wonderful, fragile, mind-blowing creation that they are.

We are not terrible people, we are a people that is simply using its resources and trying to stay alive in a society that repeatedly attacks us for using what we have to our advantage, while stereotyping us as a whole.

I like loving you like this. Like high school. Like silly, like stolen sips of whiskey, like Saturday afternoons with the whole weekend ahead of us. I like knowing we’re each other’s everythings. That we’re booth too young and foolish to know any better. To know that love hurts like hell.

I know I’m not the first twenty-something to go through this sort of experience. To have someone roll their eyes, shake their head, or chastise you via social media because you’re just that—a twenty-something—and thus you apparently know nothing about life.