Ari Eastman

When your mother has always been sick, it means you get to know hospital corridors like they are high school hallways. You walk on autopilot through pristine white buildings and don’t even think twice. It means this feels normal. It means this is routine

Don’t be someone’s second choice because you won’t be able to forget your place in line. Even when you try to. Even when you do such a good job of convincing yourself everything is fine. Because everything isn’t fine.

Even with that awful platinum hair thing he did, I’m still saying, “Mhm. You’re sorry. I forgive you. Yes. Yes, I take you back,” to the radio. Why am I emotional over these (fantastic) simp anthems about Selena? Why did I order the deluxe version of his album?

You are not imperative to my survival. You are not a pair of lungs pumping oxygen through my body. I don’t drink you to avoid dehydration. I don’t depend on you for anything. But I want you so badly, I can feel it pulsing in my blood.

You craved normalcy. Simplicity. That comforting feeling like you finally belonged. But you never quite got there.

You don’t need to be the best at what you do. You just have to care.

“You shouldn’t have to tell someone how to love you.”

“Why wasn’t I enough? What does she have that I don’t?”

You aren’t fresh to this feeling. You remember what happens when you fall. You bruise. You scar.

In the backseat of his blue Nissan, we’d kiss and think about baby names. I wasn’t pregnant. And by no means were we going to try. But the idea of it happening wasn’t terrifying. Because it’s what we wanted, one day.

Life without you isn’t much of a life at all. It feels blurry and on pause and I can never taste my favorite foods.

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

“I wonder if our children would get my eyes.”

“Well, he went to a One Direction concert with me. Without complaining. Once.”

“I don’t care what you think of me, unless you think I’m awesome. In which case you are right.”

It’s not always about being single. Just as it’s not always about wishing for a grand love. Sometimes, it’s just a game of unfair comparisons.

You know that moment when you get home from a long vacation, flop onto your bed, and it’s the most comforting-relieving-Oh-My-God-finally feeling to ever exist ever? That’s how you feel when you see your significant other.

Whenever you’re telling your friends a funny story, it always ends with them asking, “Wait why did you do that?” and you responding, “I don’t know, it sounded like a good idea at the time.”