When you’re 22, you think your first love will be your only love. And that craft beers are a right of passage.
It’s funny how the heart knows, holding its contents tight, waiting for the one worth opening for. I wanted it to be real, but I could not for the life of me get my body to feel, anything. So I texted my “friend” I wanted comfort; connection with someone I know would just be there for me. A man I knew who would answer and listen.
I have spent the past three years living in expensive cities with low paying jobs to “chase my dreams” and have wound up with a lot of debt and many phone calls home asking for rent money.
Maybe if we all felt a little more understood we could release the anger, hate, and hopelessness before we turn to rash actions.
The idea of living up to this perfect expectation of a partner seems daunting. No wonder I have brilliant, talented, did I mention beautiful friends, who are single.
I have two job interviews this week.
“To supplement my income”
Cause passion doesn’t pay the bills…yet.