You have a hard time controlling yourself. Even when you know you should wait to text the person you’re interested in, you cannot resist the temptation to message them a second (or third) time in a row.
People are disappointing, so prepared to be disappointed.
We don’t want to be tied down to one person anymore because the grass is always greener somewhere else, am I right?
I get it; a 400 lb. chunk of metal under my ass isn’t the sexiest thing, and my anatomy isn’t out of a Playboy magazine. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s frustrating sometimes.
Dating can feel like an endless grind where you beat your head up against the wall again and again, hoping that you’ll finally succeed in meeting someone great.
Your 20s are that crucial time of exploration you’ll never get back when, say, you’re in your 30s and doting on your loving family. But right now, there’s always time for the shithead-next-door.
They think that I am smart and/ or pretty and/ or cute and/ or fun to be around and/ or chill and/ or tolerable but mostly because they either aren’t looking for more than a brunette who is conscious or someone who fits the freakishly-detailed but completely bloodless list they made for themselves when they first started ‘seriously looking.’