I have done ridiculous and radical things to stay open. Thrown food. Pushed. Slapped. Sobbed. Stuffed Twinkies in my mouth with a stranger at midnight.
I wonder if the death of 'us' will kill me. But I breathe in, and I put myself together as best as I can to show the world that your words don’t faze me.
My love could never relinquish the monster. Unless the man was ready to permanently remove the beast from himself, I could never have one without the other.
Writing words that are never beautiful enough, never truthful enough, never loving enough... But these words hold a desperate hope that you will read them.
This joke was not the product of haplessly old-fashioned, harmlessly sexist men. It was purposeful, deeply misogynistic violence, passed off as joking.
Are such men spending their time scrolling through Tinder? Or do these men have faith, like me, that they’ll stumble upon love when the timing’s right?