“Even the most exciting relationship needs to be fucking boring like, 80% of the time to survive. Because it is in those moments, sitting at opposite ends of the couch, silently buried in your laptops, that you know the love is real because it has nothing to prove anymore.”
Right down to the young troubadour who blows this popsicle stand for bourbon-soaked marquee dreams, whose blazing love you’ll mourn until your dying breath. Your story is raw. Diesel fuel for the engine of American heartbreak.
And damn, is it ever hopeful.”
😭😭😭
Damn you’re a good writer. This is such a painful story, the one where we think of the road we didn’t take, and wonder what could have been. You gave a great answer. I hope we get a follow up where she’s able to tap into that list part of herself and realize a tiny dream.
Her fantasy guy and who she was with him reminds me of Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham. The musician and the poet. Their relationship was fruitful but volatile and while later it became sweet (though there might have been a turn recently), the fact is, they both found love and stability outside that creative relationship. They couldn’t be everything to each other.
Ohhh how ironic the juxtaposition of our two stories. I married my Nashville guy. It’s been 27 very very long years. I’m caught between responsibilities for another person and torn with daydreaming of my own life away from him…stress free. While the love is amazing and passionate…so is the undercurrent of recklessness and selfishness. Men like this love to love you when it’s what they need honey. Through the years you will have times of need, like when there’s a death, a job change, a pandemic lol. After 27 years I am trying to figure out what a divorce will even begin to look like or how this sounds, but saving myself seems fair after all the sacrifices. Run into what you have. Don’t walk!
dia, i needed this. i also need to read a memoir of your life like yesterday.
“Even the most exciting relationship needs to be fucking boring like, 80% of the time to survive. Because it is in those moments, sitting at opposite ends of the couch, silently buried in your laptops, that you know the love is real because it has nothing to prove anymore.”
Yeah this one got me 😭
“They write country songs about girls like you.
Right down to the young troubadour who blows this popsicle stand for bourbon-soaked marquee dreams, whose blazing love you’ll mourn until your dying breath. Your story is raw. Diesel fuel for the engine of American heartbreak.
And damn, is it ever hopeful.”
😭😭😭
Damn you’re a good writer. This is such a painful story, the one where we think of the road we didn’t take, and wonder what could have been. You gave a great answer. I hope we get a follow up where she’s able to tap into that list part of herself and realize a tiny dream.
Her fantasy guy and who she was with him reminds me of Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham. The musician and the poet. Their relationship was fruitful but volatile and while later it became sweet (though there might have been a turn recently), the fact is, they both found love and stability outside that creative relationship. They couldn’t be everything to each other.
Ohhh how ironic the juxtaposition of our two stories. I married my Nashville guy. It’s been 27 very very long years. I’m caught between responsibilities for another person and torn with daydreaming of my own life away from him…stress free. While the love is amazing and passionate…so is the undercurrent of recklessness and selfishness. Men like this love to love you when it’s what they need honey. Through the years you will have times of need, like when there’s a death, a job change, a pandemic lol. After 27 years I am trying to figure out what a divorce will even begin to look like or how this sounds, but saving myself seems fair after all the sacrifices. Run into what you have. Don’t walk!