I remember the good times, babe. Don’t think I don’t. I remember the concerts we went to last summer, I remember the lawn chairs and the taco trucks and the Moscow Mules. I remember drunkenly buying books from street vendors, and the time I bought that Beatles album with the typo on the cover? That was so exciting! We ran to the ATM, threw our surcharge cautions to the wind.
Dating a writer can either a cruel card dealt out by fate’s unsympathetic hand or complex game of wild card Poker that, although difficult to master, can leave you wading in metaphorical riches for the rest of your life. Regardless, it will be an often exciting and always unpredictable game.