“Mine was not being able to talk. Literally, I couldn’t voice any thought because depression made me believe my opinions didn’t matter. I forgot what my voice sounded like.” — Jane S.
My anxiety is a stranger intruding our house. He smashes family photos by accident, loots all jewelries with intent.
If an idea is good, money is a side effect. Ideas are the real currency.
“Just love them, seriously. Tell them you love them. Take their face in your hands and say the words.”
How cruel that the present we enjoy is condemned to insignificance before it even happens.
“Me and one of my cousins were banging for close to a decade. We’re both dudes.”
It is a trick that I discovered myself. By pure accident. And it is capable of creating the type of chemistry between two people that will in time lead to love.
I become aggressively social when I’m out with a lot of people. I don’t want to seem nervous so I start talking and sometimes can’t stop because if I do, my momentum will crash and I’ll feel myself panicking.
“I like to wear the panties she leaves at my house.”
I have started pretending that I don’t notice. I never wanted to play pretend. But now I am forced to play a game that I never wanted to play for the sake of guarding what is left of my dignity when it comes to you.