Holly Riordan

Almost relationships mean disappointment. They mean getting your hopes up and having them come barreling down. They mean letting your high expectations drop miles below their original level. They mean wasted time and tears and unanswerable questions.

Whenever he makes promises, he keeps them.

When you accidentally brush up against each other while sitting side-by-side. And neither of you inch away to establish your person space, because you can’t stand the absence of each other’s skin.

“I tore the bag open and out flopped a fully developed, completely green, dead baby, with a very smushed head. You can imagine my shock; opening the bag, expecting to find shoes, clothes, maybe a wallet, and instead a tiny human plopping out.”

“We were only out there for about a minute. When we came back in, there was blood on the walls! Little drops of blood on every wall on the first floor, and some on the walls on the second floor. “

Find out what stirs the adrenaline that’s been hibernating in your veins. Find out what convinces you to stay up until 3 AM and wake up at 5 AM. Find out what puts the suicidal thoughts to rest and gives you a burst of appreciation for the living.

I don’t want the high your smile gives me if it means that one day, I’m going to crash. Because I can’t handle the aftermath.

Capricorn: You have a habit of listening to your head over your heart. Even though your body is telling you to go after the person you love, your mind is warning you to back off. It’s listing all of the things that could go wrong. It’s convincing you that you’re better off alone.

How much effort he puts into making you happy.

You don’t reveal your secrets anymore. You get screwed over every time you open up to someone, so you’ve closed yourself off. It’s better that way.

You’re staying up until 2 AM for the wrong reasons. Because you’re wasted. Because you’re heartbroken. Because you’re bored and lonely and scrolling through social media until you’re forced to surrender to sleep.

Before you see him, you shower. Shave. Slip into a skintight dress. Fill in your eyebrows. Paint your lips. And when you meet up with him, he’s wearing the same T-shirt he wore the last time you saw him.

The woman’s whimpering rose to muffled screaming as a gloved hand reached out with the rusted knife. Pushed back her pretty hair, damp at the roots with blood. That hand dug into her ear, slicing off a chunk, taking a golden hoop and an industrial bar along with it. She was still squealing as the hand picked up the skin and flipped it back and forth in front of the phone camera, like he was a magician showing off a card.

Capricorn: There will be books everywhere. Oversized, wooden desks. A floor-standing globe. Maybe even a typewriter.

When she’s drunk. When all of her inhibitions, her insecurities, and her innocence flutters away. When she isn’t thinking over her words — once, twice, three times — before she speaks. When she says whatever pops into her intricate mind and moves with a clumsy grace.

“I get a sharp pain in my leg, as if I’d been stabbed. I look down and there’s nothing there, and absolutely nothing that could have caused it, so I carry on with my work. Next time I look down, there’s a trail of blood going from just above my ankle and trickling down my foot.”

She takes forever to text back. She’s lonely. But when a friend tries to reach out to her, she doesn’t respond. She feels like she has nothing worthwhile to say. Like she’d only bring the other person down. Depress them.

I don’t need you to text me from the second your alarm chimes in the morning until your head sinks into your pillow at night. I don’t need never-ending affection. But I do need affection. I need you to set time aside to visit me and plan out dates you think I’d like. I need you to ask me about my day and tell me all about yours. I need you to prove that you give a damn about me.