Letters that can't be sent.

[expresspost]

This town is one long awkward kiss.

Except this time you don't get to laugh about it.

Or roll away and say you're tired.

Or break it off.

I'm sorry you're sad. And that, for the tenth time, you and Mickey aren't working out. Your two-year is on Monday. Don't you think this whole thing has gone on far enough? It's too dramatic. It's too

Comments

[secretconcierge]

It's refreshing to hear that you don't want to do the whole cliche get married and have kids thing either.

[expresspost]

On certain days, I do wish to be a cliche because my childhood wasn't the greatest, and you always want the things you didn't have. Then I remember the unhappy marriages my mom and grandma got themselves into. And I remember my writing. And I remember the rest of the world.

If I fall in love, I fall in love.
If I get pregnant, I get pregnant.

All I'm saying is those aren't the reasons I'm alive.
And I'm glad that they aren't yours either.

[secretconcierge]

My childhood was not the greatest either, yet strangely I have no desire to have my own family and try to right those wrongs. If anything I feel like I spent most of my life waiting to leave my childhood home, and escape the domestic scene. I have seen enough unhappy marriages in my family and in life too, and feel like I just know better than that.

People always say I am going to end up old and lonely. Well, eventually we are all going to end up old, and I really am not that lonely now. I can't see myself suddenly having a change of heart after it is "too late."