'After all, it’s just touch.'

'Something happens. Maybe you graduated college and lost your strong network of friends. Finding a relationship is harder now. You actually have to work at it whereas before it usually just fell into your lap. You’re no longer guaranteed to meet new people. Your life isn’t as open as it used to be. Working to be social. What a strange concept.

Float through the days. Watch yourself become more and more locked up. Flinch when someone brushes your shoulder on the street and marvel at what you’ve been reduced to. You’re someone who once had amazing sex and been in love and now you’re getting your breath taken away by a passing stranger. How does one get to this point? Is it possible to find your way back? Is it possible to have a healthy amount of sex again and not give a crap if someone brushes your body at a bar. After all, it’s just touch.

Yes, you can. You can meet the love of your life. You can meet them in a bookstore, in a coffee shop, at a party, at a bar, through friends of friends, on the Internet, whatever. The trick to finding this person though is to never resign yourself. Never let the lonely days swallow you up, never accept that you’ll just be one of those people who doesn’t get to be loved. Because the second you start believing it, it can become true. That’s the scary part. How quickly days can turn into years. Just like that. I’ve always said that the whole “love comes to those who aren’t expecting it” is BS. Who ISN’T expecting love? I didn’t expect love for two solid years and guess where it got me? Celibacy. You should always expect to be loved, you should always expect to find somebody to love because if you don’t, you do get your worst fears confirmed and then you’re a goner. Then you’re denying yourself what you deserve. What you can certainly have.'

Busy and bullshit

'The fact that you could spend over two days running around with your friends acting foolish, only coming home to change and maybe catch five hours of sleep, is proof that you’re still young. We forget that there will be a point when that will end, when we will have someone else to answer to. Don’t take these kinds of weekends for granted.

On Saturday morning, wake up to a text inviting you to brunch with many of the friends you spent Friday night with. Even though you only got five hours of sleep and feel like hell, you’re running on adrenaline so you go. You leave your apartment and meet them for food and conversation and maybe drinks I guess, who knows, do whatever you feel like. The meal lasts for hours and when you step outside to leave, the sun makes you wince and you realize it’s already almost 4 o’clock. You vaguely recall having stuff to do but you’re not ready to ruin the buzz of the weekend, so you split off with a best friend and go to the park. Lay in the sun, feel your bones become jelly, eat a popsicle. Define leisure. Listen to music and creep on all the babes. Then feel the sun start to go down and begin to pack up.

Make your way to your friend’s apartment to cook dinner. Put your feet out the window and lay in their bed. Contemplate going home after you eat because you need sleep but ultimately decide against it. You know the second you get to your apartment, which will somehow already feel foreign to you, you’ll just start to feel lonely and wish you were still riding the wave of the weekend. Stay out...

the weekend is more about celebrating your friendships and yourself. They’re about detaching yourself from your anxieties and feeling a sense of togetherness. They’re about letting go and being the lovely mess you deserve to be.' (I love that part!)

Aww. So true and funny and queasy American hype.

But it's lovely to read over. Possibly my new favourite writer and website.