Charlotte Green

I believe in public displays of affection that never feel public, because we don’t even notice anyone’s around us.

Pretty much everyone you meet — even random people on the street — make comments on your height difference. You hear “Wow, he’s really tall!” or “Do you even go up to his belly button?” about once a day.

What is the word for missing someone, for knowing there is something missing from you because they are not there, when you have never had them to begin with? Does that word exist?

You actually go over lists in your head of all the reasons why it’s not a good idea to like them, and how you could never like them in practice because they’re totally wrong for you.

I know that, in your weaker moments, you’ve been overcome with frustration at the appearance of a wedding album on Facebook.

I hope you have someone to spend it with you who loves you, who cares about you, and who doesn’t have some allergic reaction to things going well like I do.

You don’t know if anything is particularly wrong with you, you just know that there is a storyline of love that everyone else gets to follow except for you.

They don’t understand. They think they are helping, but they don’t get it.

When I call you and you don’t pick up and I call you again — maybe even four times — I know that I’m bothering you. I know that you think I’m the ‘crazy’ ‘needy’ girl that you have to gently let down again.

We choose not leaving our hometown because we think it guarantees us friends and comfort. We choose to stay in unfulfilling relationships because we think it guarantees we will never be alone.

The siblings/cousins who have a long-term SO to bring around for the holidays are basically the celebrities of the family.

I see my friends getting engaged on Facebook almost every weekend now, and I always do the right thing. I say congratulations, I ‘like’ their pictures of the ring and their professional portraits.