Thought Catalog


On Loving Cities More Than People

Were you holding my hand? I can’t remember. I do remember that the rain never stopped, so we sat under ancient crown moldings while the thunderstorm crashed in and pelted the city with a fury not seen in decades.

I Want You Because

I want you because you and I, the thought of you and I. Those letters forming those words, those words sticking together, the jellyfish swell and shrink in my chest when I think about what they mean.

Loving You Left Me Bankrupt

You’re a criminal math problem, an economic black hole, a pick pocket in a coal mine waiting for Christmas and I’m pretty sure that last Saturday night when I let you cum on my chest, the balance in my savings account dropped to zero.

A Letter To Your Next Love

I am not yet over him. In a way, I never will be. I will wonder if you wear glasses, and when you take them off, if the sight of your eyes makes him melt as they did with me.

We All Stand Still Sometimes

“I’m sorry about everything.” You can feel her eyes on you. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but cause trouble.” You feel her hand on yours and you know that she feels comforted that you are beside her.

When Will We Be Ready To Be Loved?

I have asked my boyfriend why he loves me, and he has asked me the same. And the question rarely feels like a desperate scratching at a hidden truth, more a moment of genuine curiosity that might finally be answered.