Problematic Summer Romance

You okay?” I ask, cautious. “Yeah.” A deep inhale. “Yeah. I just wanted to listen to you exist.

I have never wanted anything as desperately, as ungovernably, as persistently as I want you. Not a single goddamn thing. Not my dead mother back. Not revenge. Not the well-being of the people I love. Not professional success, not even my own happiness. Absolutely nothing has consumed me as mercilessly as you have.

Because if we ever end up in an accident, I'd rather die than survive you.

Because one day, Conor Harkness decided that he wanted someone to know him. And he chose me.

Since the first day I met you, you have been the best thing in my life. And you weren’t even in it.

I love you, Maya. And no. It’s never going to pass.

It’s the way you take over the space around you. You remind me constantly, loudly, indecently, of all the little things that make you you. It’s impossible to escape, and it makes me very angry.

Do you want me to leave?” “It would be best if—” “Not the question I—” “No, Maya. I never want you to be anywhere but with me.

Maybe he was the love of my life. No, I am certain that he was. But happy endings are not the rule. Sometimes you give it your all, and things still don’t turn out well. Sometimes A for effort looks just like an F in a funhouse mirror. It’s okay. I’ve survived a lot of bad shit, and I know the trick to pull through. Breathe. Just breathe. And then breathe again.

So, you and Rue are taking care of it?” He gives me an appalled look. “I would never ask Rue to talk on the phone with someone.

You built a nice adulthood over the ruins of a shitty adolescence,” my therapist once said, and I enjoy the mental image of it. The idea of life as something I could choose, cultivate day by day, curate and nurture. Being mindful, instead of reactive.

You are mine, and used to me touching you. You welcome it. It’s…We have a life, Maya. That’s ours.

You have no football, just an organized system of overgrown men giving each other CTE.

I am a corporate lawyer, girl. My tolerance for boring is higher than the debt ceiling.

Yeah.” A deep inhale. “Yeah. I just wanted to listen to you exist.

I just wanted to listen to you exist.

A new feeling floods me: That he and I are on the same side of an invisible line, and the rest of the world is elsewhere. Our very own Isola Bella. Sandbar accessibility subject to changes in sea levels.

All of these things you listed, a dog could do.

He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, and says: “I love you, Maya. And no. It’s never going to pass.

On my quest to make him hurt as much as I’m hurting, I may have misplaced my self-preservation.

SCARLETT: Lukas and I are rooting for you.

Is the attraction in the room with us?” he asks, derisive.

It’s not for us to know. He’s different with her. How do you know? Because that’s how relationships work. If it’s a good one, you let loose. You show all sides of yourself.

It’s awkward, too. People try to put forward their best traits, but a lot is at stake, and they are nervous, which is counterproductive. It’s the trial-run nature of it. Like there’s something to prove, a new level to graduate to. The need to discover whether a subeffective dose of someone you barely know might be compatible with your system, then slowly increase the intake, see if your organism tolerates it…it’s the kind of shit you do to get accustomed to poisons.

He casts a level look in my direction. "Because if we end up in an accident, I’d rather die than survive you." My heart stops. Doesn’t restart for whole seconds.

I’d love to make someone feel the way they made me feel. Like the world doesn’t have to be a terrible, scary, lonely place. Like life can be kind.” He doesn’t say anything for a long while, and neither do I.

Dude, this is what I hate about rich old white men.” Nyota sags forward. “They never fail to embody the stereotype, and they’re so damn boring. They have their little midlife crises, and do they decide to invest in sustainability projects? Do they publicly advocate for women’s reproductive rights? Nope, they get married to a girl who was barely potty trained by the time they’d embezzled their first million.