“I want you to propose,” I said to him, so direct it surprised him. So direct it surprised me. Marriage had come up with us before, but often within the conversational framework of contracts.
Maybe it’s brave to quit your job to go paint in Peru for a year, but it’s also brave to work two jobs to help pay for your mom’s medical bills. It’s smart to stay at the law firm until your loans are paid off.
I’m not waiting ‘til next time to do better, because I’m going to start doing better right now.
“You don’t like to be touched, do you?”
In front of our canvases, we painted quietly. The light of sunset pooled on the floor.
It’s not difficult to find an image of 20-somethings and younger sitting around staring at their phones. We call it a shame, that we’re losing the ability to communicate, and that our humanity is all but gone.
All I wanted to hear was a knock at the door and the silence was deafening.
Every day we drink the liquors of Likes and Retweets, snorting lines of texts, looking for that hit, that instant gratification. We are gratified, but we are not grateful. And we drink the hair of the dog rather than the water because we want it easy and fast and right now.
There’s a weird shame in not being content with what you begged for, and there’s a humbling in admitting it.