I Almost Forgot About You

Over the years it became clear that sometimes you fall in love only to realize you don’t even like the person.

For five years I didn't think it was possible to be this happy. But then he forgot all those promises he made. He forgot why he loved me. He simply stopped loving me. And this is how he did it: He stopped talking to me unless I spoke to him. He stopped holding my hand. He stopped kissing me good night. He stopped kissing me good morning. He stopped kissing me. He stopped smiling at me. He stopped laughing. He stopped bathing and showering with me. He stopped wanting me. He started swearing at me. He started lying to me. He started cheating on me. He hurt me. And then he told me he was in love with another woman and wanted a divorce. Oh, I forgot. He said he was sorry. I wanted to blow his fucking brains out.

Most women are amazing. They just need to be with someone who makes it easy for them to express it. I think it’s called respect.

Always listen to the parent who doesn’t like who you love. They can smell a mistake. Of course, you don’t find this out until you realize that the person you fell in love with is different from the person you married. Some men are good at fooling you.

It now seems obvious that the way we’re raised has a major impact on what kind of person we turn out to be, but so does who we love.

I'm trying to stop lying to myself about little things. I'm still working on the big ones.

You promised me you would never cheat on me, that you’d love me forever and we would never get a divorce.” “I still love you, and I hate that I cheated on you, and I wish we’d never gotten divorced.

So are you happy? he asks. I hate it when anyone asks me that. It's such a loaded fucking question. Are they talking aggregate years? Doesn't it depend on the day, the moment? Or are they referring to last year or last month?

At some point, we need to be honest with ourselves and do what excites us instead of what looks good on paper.

Now you fall across the bed when you're not sleepy but just tired of the way you live--or aren't living. From the outside you shouldn't be complaining, but success and a good credit score can't love you. Or give you an orgasm. You even empty the trash and wonder what you're really throwing away. You comb your hair and put on makeup and buy something pretty to wear and get your nails and toes painted hot pink even though you don't feel hot, and you wonder who will even notice. You shave your legs and under your arms and get your eyebrows waxed, and you wonder who will notice. And then, one day, out of nowhere, you stop wondering and start worrying that the best part of your life is behind you. Is this how it's going to be forever? Is this all there is? God, you hope not.

Change is hard, and sometimes I think I should just turn to drugs and stay high and not worry about a damn thing.

I like gay men who don’t hate women, and I don’t mind being around rich white people, because there’s plenty of them in the Bay Area, and I know how to ignore Republicans.

When I hear the doorbell, I push myself to a standing position and head upstairs. “Coming!” I yell while dancing to an unidentifiable beat that’s obviously not coming out of the speakers. This is just one more reason I like wine.

He encouraged me to take one more deep puff and hold it in, so I did, and the smoke traveled down on top of my esophagus and then did a U-turn up into where my brain was supposed to be. At first it felt like fireworks, and then I began to feel like I was floating down a stream. I liked it. And I took another puff and studied my ass off. The next morning, however, I would fail my very first Spanish exam, because I would not remember how to conjugate anything except Abraham.

We dream of times that are not and blindly flee the only one that is. The fact is that the present usually hurts. —BLAISE PASCAL, Pensées

I became a better person because of the time I spent with him, knowing him. I never got a chance to tell him that.

I change my mind about the new black getup and opt for the chocolate brown outfit I was going to wear to the party. I’m not trying to inspire Michael. I just want to look inspired. God, I hope he has a big fat gut and his teeth are rotting and he can’t stand up straight because his penis has fallen off and he smells like mustard.