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When your blog post about using a necklace to get guys, gets you guys…

On one night stands

I don’t understand the concept of a one night stand. Like, if you had good sex, why wouldn’t you have more?

Boylston Street in a sun dress

I went out with two guys I met on the street. Literally on the street. I had just graduated, I had a rule about not dating co-workers, and I was anti dating apps, so when one asked, I figured, how else am I expecting to meet someone? It was a weird thing to do. Twice. I went out with the second one twice.

Bras

I just can’t get myself to wear a bra to a date. Maybe it’s after-hours exhibitionism, maybe it’s the scarring, skin-sucking strapless bras that pair with nice tops, maybe it’s the open vibe of my boobs hanging freely underneath my shirt: maybe I just want a boy who accepts me as I am.

Jolted

He rubbed his fingertips across the small of my back. I wasn’t expecting it, goosebumps jolt up my spine. I tried to steal a moment alone with him, after the busy day with much company, I walked slowly, hanging to the back of the pack, as we left the park, the sun set, and he rubbed his fingertips across the small of my back.

Yeah, I’ve cried during sex

Yeah, I’ve cried during sex.

Dude’s like, why’s my face getting wet? (missionary) I’m like, I don’t know, subconscious EMOTIONS.

Guess I was disappointed with him.

Bits

I.

So my boyfriend and I break up, and I start working out a lot to stay sane. And now I’m like, great, now I have abs, and there’s no one to look at them. Can I get a second opinion on if my perky spin butt is worth the chunky spin thighs?

II.

I’m still in that self destructive phase where if someone offered me a chance to meet a stranger who would become the love of my life or a text from my ex stating that he wanted to see me, I’d choose the latter.

III.

It’s starting to have been long enough since we broke up that if I died, it wouldn’t be immediately obvious to people to call you. I still can’t believe you don’t want to hang out anymore. I just want go home.

IV.

I didn’t have any warning. I still had soup in your freezer and eyeliner placed gently on the ground of your bathroom as I sprinted after you to brunch. I feel like I lost a home.