“asking how long-term relationship people don’t get “bored” with having sex with the same person over and over again. I don’t know, bro, I’ve been eating chocolate cake for like 20 solid years and I still will walk a half hour out of my way to get a slice. I think relationship people are doing just fine.”—Chelsea Fagan
Are we a product of convenience? Every chance I see you, the silhouettes and shapes become clearer. Your imprints linger just a bit longer. You’re becoming a constant. If you leave I might feel a piece missing from me.
"So I’ll tell you I’m not ready. Partially because I’m not sure of what I want, but mostly because I do know what I don’t want. I do not want the responsibility that being committed to you entails. I don’t want to devote hours of my day wondering about yours, worrying about how even my smallest actions might affect you. I want to be unreasonable on a whim, and I don’t want to ask for permission. And I certainly do not want responsibility for the maintenance of your emotional health, because I can barely manage my own.
And yes, I want to be single because I want to date other people. I’m not a sex fiend or anything. In fact, I really like having sex with you, so I won’t be creeping at bars on the few nights we don’t spend together looking to undress someone new. However, having the option to do so is something I’m not yet willing to give up.”
I was 14 and madly in love for the first time. He was 21. He made me suddenly, unaccustomedly beautiful with his kisses and mix tapes. During the year of elation and longing, he never mentioned that he had a girlfriend who lived across the street. A serious girl. A girl his age. A girl he loved. Unlike inappropriate, high school, secret me.
The next time, I was 15 visiting a friend at college. It was a friend’s friend’s boyfriend who looked like Jim Morrison and wore leather pants and burned candles and incense. She was at work and I wanted him to touch me. She found out. I don’t know what happened after that.
I was 19 and he was my boyfriend’s arch-rival. I was 20 and it was my lover’s girlfriend and we had to lie because otherwise he always wanted to watch. I was 24 and her girlfriend knew about it but then changed her mind about the open relationship. We saw each other anyway. I was 30 and we wanted each other but were committed to other people; the way we look at each other still scorches the walls. I turned thirty-something and pointedly wasn’t invited to a funeral/a wedding/a baby shower because of a rumor.
I am a few years older now and I know this: There are tastes of mouths I could not have lived without; there are times I’ve pretended it was just about the sex because I couldn’t stand the way my heart was about to burst with happiness and awe and I couldn’t be that vulnerable, not again, not with this one. That waiting to have someone’s stolen seconds can burn you alive. That the shittiest thing you can do in the world is lie to someone you love; also that there are certain times you have no other choice – not honoring this fascination, this car crash of desire, is also a lie. That there is power in having someone risk everything for you. That there is nothing more frightening than being willing to take this free-fall. That it is not as simple as we were always promised. Love – at least the pair-bonded, prescribed love – does not conquer all.
Arrow, meet heart. Apple, meet Eve.
”—Daphne Gottlieb, from “Let’s Just Get This Out in the Open” (via fleurishes)
“You have to decide what your highest priorities are and have the courage—pleasantly, smilingly, nonapologetically, to say “no” to other things. And the way you do that is by having a bigger “yes” burning inside. The enemy of the “best” is often the “good.”—Stephen R, Covey (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
“Of course I am not worried about intimidating men. The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in.”—Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, TedxEuston (x) (via manhating-babyeater)