I Do All My Own Stunts

Perfectionism is very addictive because it is very seductive. It’s so great to think ‘There’s a way I can do things where I can never be held in judgment by other people, that I can totally escape criticism.’ But it doesn’t work.

Miss someone until they come back, or until you come back, until their absence in your life becomes something to be avoided at all costs. Miss them until you don’t have to anymore, until you’re reunited in your favorite booth in your favorite restaurant ordering your favorite meal, miss them until it feels like you never left. Or miss them until you can’t anymore, until the things you miss are identified and cataloged as things and not a person, until you figure out that easy company and long talks and unblinking, all-knowing eye contact will find you again the way they found you the first time. Miss someone until you don’t.

Sleep on it. Things always seem different in the morning.

The saddest things in the world:

I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.

You never apologized to me for hurting me, but I apologized to you 12 times for being angry about it.

You know how when you’re in a car and it’s pouring down rain, you go under a bridge and everything stops. Everything goes silent and it’s almost peaceful. Then you finally get from under the bridge, and everything hits you a little harder than before. You were my bridge.

I love you but you hurt me a lot