Katie Mather

I always wait too long.

Before we became Real Friends, we’d sit around his living room and he would talk about his ex-girlfriend (the one he was still in love with) and he would never use her name (although I knew what it was). He’d always just say “her.”

You’re so whaaaaaaatever and laid-back about everything, it’s so cool. You just have one, tiny little extravagant dating standard, and it’s that you only want to date that guy who literally has no interest in you. And who also already has a girlfriend. But you look hot in sweatpants! Has he seen you in sweatpants?

We meet during a weird time in both of our lives.

Aries: Love is in the air for you! Wow, you should be thrilled that—honestly, guys, I can’t do it. Every time I go on the internet something worse has happened. Also I don’t know anything about zodiac signs.

Having a crush on someone. ALSO someone having a crush on me. Crushes in general.

He still flirts with you, no matter how long you’ve been together. The flirting thing used to be really cute, but why can’t you remember who he voted for? Does anyone else just feel like crying all the time now?

I spent two weeks without any alcohol—and my head stopped hurting in the morning and I didn’t throw up in any kitchen sinks and I didn’t have to make any phone calls to apologize and I didn’t eat a spring roll while sitting on the floor of my shower and I didn’t ever at all think it was an appropriate idea to FaceTime the guy I used to like three times at 3:34AM. I just felt fine.

I think about how she smiles without her teeth in all of her pictures and you used to make fun of me for how loud my laugh is, which just shows how fundamentally different the reasons for why anyone would and should be interested in either of us are.

Your apartment had a very distinct smell that I remember almost crying over during our last day sitting around on that super shitty couch (remember how the back of the couch was broken?) and you were taking post-its off the wall and I felt like my head was blowing up like a balloon because of how hard I was keeping it all together.

I do not believe in signs or stars aligning or fate or whatever, but when I came back from California, my other friend was filling me in on her sort-of-ex’s actions from the 10 days I was gone. And instead of suggesting we curse him or something, I just blurted out: “Oh my god, that’s what I do to other people too.”

Someone told me recently that the lack of oxygen on airplanes makes it easier to cry, so maybe that’s why I’m more of a nightmare while flying. When I got to my seat—18C, aisle seat always, near the exit row because I’m a control freak—I knew this flight was going to be particularly rough because I had A LOT I didn’t want to think about.