“The light trickles over body parts entangled together on a bed, now coiled into one.”
When I was 26, a PhD candidate in Gender Studies living in Toronto, I decided on a sunny spring morning, once and for all, that I would never get married. NOT EVER.
“I hate when people say this to me. Like, a) I know and b) I don’t feel like I am actively looking, so why do people automatically assume that I am.”
“Now that ghosting is mainstream, I feel comfortable admitting that I might have a problem.”
It was me against the French Toast and we were in a foreplay of power.
I’m in this weird, grey middle ground where I equally want to embrace and fight off this loser in me.