Nice people are often assumed to have no opinions. They don’t say anything bad about someone, they won’t talk talk crap, which is like the ultimate sin for a twenty-something to commit. If you can’t get all gossip girl with someone, your value diminishes and you aren’t to be trusted. I used to not care about nice people. Like many others, I found them to be dull, but then I realized I was only seeing a specific breed of nice. Believe it or not, there are people who are both kind AND interesting. They show us that saying mean things does not make you interesting.
Maybe the ones you really need to careful with and protect your heart from are not the ones who seem like they aren’t capable of falling in love, but the ones who fall in love 20 times a day, with a book and a song, or that paper bag gently floating across the sky on a slightly windy day; every time they have their favorite food or try on the perfect pair of jeans that always seems like a feat to find; with strangers and the idea of what they might be like, what part they’d play in their lives; with looks that aren’t meant to be loving and an imagination that can’t help but always run wild. Maybe these are the ones you should be afraid of because they don’t know when to stop, or how, and when enough is enough and how much they should really hold back and save some, for that one special person who’s going to deserve it the most.
My earliest memory is from October 17th, 1997. It is the day my younger sister was born and also the day that my parents locked me out of the house. I had to spend the afternoon at the neighbors. They gave me Oreos and let me watch Ah! Real Monsters, so all was well.
Dating a writer means having to repeat yourself often. Writers are bad listeners and you will always be competing with the background noise of their thoughts, which are wild, rampant, and prone to racing at high velocities.