Ari Eastman

Went for a petty route instead of being honest about my feelings. 

There’s just so much I promised I would do.

I’ve always cared a lot. And yes, it’s been both the aching sore in my side and greatest strength. But what fun is life if I’m not actually committing to it?

So maybe I stopped second guessing a feeling so good. So maybe I realized I care about you so deeply and there’s absolutely no going back.

The text read, “Just remember, everything happens for a reason.” The incident she was referring to was the death of my father. I was 16.

Speak up. If someone does something you don’t agree with, say so. Let your voice be heard.

Now is deciding to get over the fear of sleeping with someone else and leaning into an arm around my waist. Now is actually liking it.

I also will stop trying to assess if people on Instagram are fake smiling or genuine smiling.

I know there is no right way to be alive. I know there is sometimes just this, survival. And dirt. And clawing our way out of the thick of it.

Real friends see each other in the shit and dark and areas they don’t want others to see. They see it and say, “I love you, you freak.”

You never wanted to live in Los Angeles. I never wanted to live in New York. There we were, standing on two different ends of the country unwilling to find common ground.

I am scared of good things because good things do not last.