Thought Catalog


The First Time I Met Him, I Hated Him

Elias came off like he liked his girls well-dressed, wild, and raven-haired. A week ago, I’d chopped my un-wavy, un-beachy, brown hair down to a pixie cut and transformed into the anti-hookup, asexual, queen of New Jersey. If LA didn’t like it, screw ’em.

A 30-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Late April, 1982

I can’t believe it. Sean just left. Here he was in my apartment, the guy I’ve been fantasizing about. . . Okay: now I’m sure that Sean likes me. I told him I give my books only to people I really like. Damn it, I wish I could express myself better and I hope he can see in my eyes how I feel about him.