Your crush can sense your increasingly-frenetic desperation, and now has gone from the “They’re a cool friend, but I’m just not really interested in being romantically involved” stage to the “I can…

We are an amalgam of our best selfies, of the edits, and of the tagged photos we approved. We are someone else entirely, someone more conventionally beautiful.

Because this kind of chivalry — doing everything possible to make a woman feel safe and acknowledged — is not based on what it means to be a woman. It is acknowledging that she encounters, likely…

Because, in case there was any confusion about it, if you deem what is happening in her life as funny or cute, you are being a terrible person.

There are only a certain amount of friends we can really have at any given point, and the rest are going to hover closer to acquaintance-status out of necessity. The people who seem to be surrounded with tons of people at every social event likely don’t have any more true friends than anyone else, they just have more reliable acquaintances.

The true pain in loving someone far away does not really come from the distance. It is the memory of what it is like to be with them that tortures you, that makes the long stretches of silence or misunderstanding unbearable.

I love watching people dance, even just rocking back and forth to a song we’ll never hear in their headphones on the subway.

I want to walk out and pretend not to hear the calls behind me of “Where are you going?” “When are you coming back?” I don’t know when I am coming back, and there is no one I want to explain it to.