Living in New York is like dating a stripper. It’s all good times until you try to get serious.
I had my first girlfriend in 10th grade. We were friends for a while. Because we were so comfortable with one another, I took that as a sign that we should start dating. So, I asked her out, thinking the sexual attraction would come in time.
I remember one time I went to a party and saw a woman who I thought was stunningly beautiful. So much so that I felt the need to tell her.
A life partner gently nudges you; they don’t push. No matter how beneficial something is to someone, you can’t force-feed it down their throats.
Within the first hour of meeting each other, sparks starting flying like it was an electrical fire. We had enough chemistry to form a covalent bond.
Piper’s story is nothing special. Remove Alex from the plot and the remainder is dull.
Not wearing your heart on your sleeve is admirable, but hiding our feelings from others limits our ability to connect with them. We’re not vulnerable. We’re just a face. A robot. We don’t really end up knowing each other.
As long as they believe homosexuality is a choice they’ll refuse to sympathize. I understand that. I have a hard time sympathizing with men who wear dress shoes with no socks.