Nom-Nom | Namaste

The mountains loomed in the distance and I counted the scars on my legs, trying to remember every stumble. I had no course. I never did. But wherever it was I was going, I would get there. I would get there by playlists, by long rides, by plane tickets, by passion, by saying I love you, by standing up for myself, by doing what was wrong and then doing what was right, by doing what was selfish and then doing what was noble, I would get there.

I would get there and I would be fine. And then I would be good. And pretty soon after that, I would be lightning.

~ Date By Numbers

Today I woke up to sharp words from a person who has never once brought out the good in me. I’d wondered for nearly a year where the story would end and I finally found out this morning: at one of the highest points in southern California, my smile wide and integrity maintained.

Date By Numbers: Anonymous asked: He’s gone now. I gave him a second chance and he... ›

You’re not tired of dating; you’re just tired. You’re tired of bearing the weight alone. You’re tired of an empty apartment and dinner for one. You’re tired of ricocheting off yourself and slugging shots at the bar. You’re tired of playing dress up with no one to dress you down. You’re tired of the excruciating loneliness that creeps onto tingling skin, begging for touch like sucking for air. And so am I. So is she. So is he, and that girl, and those boys, and so many other people you see on the train, in the market, across the table. But we keep doing it because it’s worth it, because it’s everything, because for all the awkward hellos and terrible dinners, there’s one flawed masterpiece who’s singing your harmony…

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.

on first dates.

in case you were wondering.

Think of it like this: you’re an intern and you want to be hired full-time. They’re going to let you keep working for free for as long as they can, so it’s up to you to go for the promotion. And if they say no, better to know now so you can get a job somewhere else. You got some experience, you had some fun, but sometimes if you want something more, you need to be the one to ask for it.

As O’Brien learned from relationship educator Pat Love, women sometimes nickname their not-yet-fully-boyfriends to defer recognizing them as whole humans and thus minimize the despair if these guys disappear without warning. But according to a recently graduated member of a fraternity at Brown University—let’s call him Dan—it’s not about that for guys.

“We don’t do it all the time,” Dan explained. “But I think when we do, it’s because referring to a girl by name makes her sound like your girlfriend. ‘I’m hanging out with Lisa later’ makes it sound much more serious than ‘I’m hanging out with The Wrestler,’” he told me, adding that “The Wrestler” was a friend’s consistent hookup whose last name sounded like “wrestler.”

on anxiety