This is what happens when we stop letting men live in our minds rent-free
A woman hooks up with a guy. They used to be friends, so she thinks she knows him. “He’s cool,” she tells me. “I’ve known him for years. He’s a good guy, better than the last.”
I laughed. Just about anyone could top that one.
Think Joe Goldberg without the charm, the smarts, the jawline, or the tortured-poet monologue. Keep the obsession, the entitlement, and the desperate need to control and take up mental real estate.
“Seriously?” I couldn’t help it. She was killing me with her lack of self-awareness, the kind that comes from taking man after man into your life and headspace without giving yourself a break to figure out who you really are without them.
I told her being friends first doesn’t mean shit. Everyone seems like a decent guy until you get involved. Until he starts creeping into your inner peace, thoughts, emotions, energy, and …
What did he actually mean when he said that?
What the hell does that Insta reel mean?
Why did he read my message but not reply?