Of course I wanted to be in love, of course I wanted to have someone light up my night in the darkest hours, of course, of course I did. But I wanted a novel, I wanted a story in motion, and I didn’t want that love to be the end of the story. I wanted him to be a character and I wanted our novels to crash together and rivet us. I wanted to be bewildered and have my breath stolen and the rug ripped out from under me and to read him top to bottom for the rest of time. I didn’t want the prepackaged combined income and health benefits home in the good school district. People told me I would want these things by now. And I tried to. But I exhausted myself trying to be what they wanted.
On Longing (Date By Numbers)
It’s like this little lady lives inside my head, articulating the thoughts I can’t quite get out.