I had been dating Jared a few weeks when my friends started questioning whether or not I’d made him up.
Jared was the awesome boyfriend they only heard about and never met. He cooked for me, we loved the same TV shows, he looked great in pajamas, we had great chemistry, and we could laugh for hours. There was only one problem with our relationship: I couldn’t stand him once we were out of the comfort of our living rooms. Read more … Keep reading »
“Aaron misses you and can’t live without you,” was Dr. W’s first line at our first session.
I turned to my handsome, curly haired off-and-on beau of six years, sitting beside me on the couch of Dr. W’s office. I’d left Aaron because he couldn’t commit. Yet after three months apart, he coerced me to a couples session with his new therapist, Dr. W, “just for closure.”
“He’s so happy you could make it here today,” Dr. W added.
“And who are you, Cyrano de Bergerac?” I asked. Read more … Keep reading »
What’s healthier: Still bringing up your ex five-hundred moons after you broke up with him, or, say, doing a search for his name on Flickr and gaining access to his latest photo uploads in the privacy of your own apartment and/or cube?
Am I less insane for airing the fact that I can’t get over a girl I haven’t seen in the flesh since “Frasier” was on, or am I more mentally robust if I stay mum on her hold over me while examining the Facebook page of everyone we ever mutually knew to see if she’s posted anything on their walls or was in any of their photo albums?
These are all trick questions. The real sign of sanity is … Read more. Keep reading »
This past Sunday was my 25th birthday. While I don’t think of 25 as old, I definitely think of it as getting older, as I am now closer to 30 than 20.
At this sort of “in-between” moment, I got to thinking about what a difference five years can make.
I’m a completely different person at 25 than I was at 20, and although I’m thankful to have learned from my mistakes, there are a few things I wish I knew then that I know now. Read more … Keep reading »
I liked jerks. No, I loved them, but now, looking back, I realize it wasn’t just that. For the most part, every man who failed to call me was capable of calling someone else, and at a certain point, I had to face the fact that it wasn’t just them, it was me. I begged for men to be unaccountable. I allowed them to be untrustworthy. And I expected them to leave. Read more … Keep reading »
I’ve been with my boyfriend for just about two years now. How do I keep it interesting with him in bed? I feel like it’s getting dull already. Are we doomed? Read more … Keep reading »