So, What Are We?

Can someone please tell me if there is seriously a good time to “talk about what we expect from each other”. If you were my best friend who just got engaged to her long-term perfect boyfriend she would say “FINALLY YEAH”. If you were my other best friend who thinks the moment is more fun than the long term she would say “oh no, right now?”. And if you were my ex-boyfriend you would say “are you free tonight?”. Placing expectations on other people is hard! I mean do you just call up your friends and say, “Excuse me but what do you expect out of us getting blackout drunk together and then showing our underwear to random people driving by us on the street?”. I guess maybe I would have better answers for those types of examples. But, if sex is involved everything is overturned. Nothing seems logical anymore because it is driven by emotions. Rationality is out the window.

But what “do” we expect from each other? Is this long term, short term, monogamous, weekend strictly, we bang but I don’t meet your friends, your mom knows you can’t be single this long but you would never tell her about this, love? The conversation of our demise. When deep down realities of intimate relationships show up to the inevitable scene. You would think that you shouldn’t ever have to ask “what are we?” to someone you can look at in the eyes lying next to them on their pillow. This life is weird.

Weird it may be, but I fucking love it. The way the blood rushes from my face reading the words. The way I think about your hands on my skin reminding me that this moment matters too. The way I screenshot the texts to send to my best friend to hear what I should respond with. It’s raw, it’s us addressing feelings that we so easily dismiss. In the end, it doesn’t matter what we are. Tell people how you feel, even if it makes your hands tremble.

by aprilshowers

I still remember the day my mom started sleeping in my bed instead of my fathers. I ordered a gin gimlet the other night at dinner with him and he told me I reminded him of her. Letting too many words flow instead of pent up is another thing I can thank my mother for. I write for no one in particular, which feels very specific all at the same time.


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