relationship

thousands of contemporary prayers whispered and embedded into my thoughts / you plague my vision, my memory / I am all I have left of you

My partner and I enjoy spending a lazy day at home, just watching TV or a movie, but sometimes it gets boring. We like to go out on the town and treat ourselves to dinner but find that our wallets are substantially lighter by the end of the night. It can be hard to come up with dates that are fun and creative while still not breaking the bank, so I did some brainstorming to save your next date night.

somehow in the midst of my losing battle with time, I traded my ability to feel for disappointing wisdom in a deal I never remember making.

I find myself incredibly grateful now, finally, for things that I always should’ve been grateful for.

love feels like: a vase of pink tulips / easing into a good book / a water balloon fight / the night before your favorite concert

I want my music to act like my neighborhood’s little library tucked between trees — a space where people come to inhale and exhale sorrow and glee.

Every time we had sex, I felt like it pushed us farther apart rather than closer together. I loved this person — and he loved me — so why didn’t we love having sex with each other?

After allowing my emotions to rest in the hands of another for so long, feeling disconnected from stability propelled me to understand the beauty in the middle.

I need to feel that electrified spark between us, the high I can only get when our bodies are intertwined. I’d rather lose myself than lose him.

In Berkeley, everyone was to me — as I was to them — an afterthought, a relationship preserved at night and over weekends after the day’s, or week’s, work was done.