In my opinion, the “wasted friend” title is semi-acceptable in college. We act understanding about it because “shit happens.” But after graduation? No way. If someone doesn’t have their alcohol consumption in-check after college, then I have no empathy for them.
Why am I so undesirable? Why won’t he love me? Why am I not good enough?
And so, if you mention again that we should hang out, I will agree. I will drink beer with you and make casual conversation, hoping we do not get too close in proximity to each other. I will sit there wanting to jump your bones. And God help me, may you not decide you feel the same in that moment.
There’s something about this one. Something that seems so right and beautiful. You don’t want to let it go. But you don’t know how to tell him either. Because to tell him would be to go against everything the relationship was founded upon: the mutual understanding that it would end when distance came into play.
People always say that you find someone when you’re least expecting it. But I don’t exactly expect to find anyone in the college hookup culture I live in, and the “finding someone when you least expect it” thing is not working for me.
It is a woman’s job to be as discrete with her period as possible, in order to protect the innocent minds of others, especially men.
When you hardly talk to someone, you expect your minimal conversations with him or her to be all the more precious. But, when you get no reply, it’s like a punch to the gut.
I cared about him. I did not want to show it, though, because I did not want to be the only one of us who cared.
I want her to see the beauty of life before it is too late.
He has a quiet soul. He’s not the kind of person to express his emotions. But I have a quiet soul, too.