Tag Archives: Likes

How To Fall In Love

Thought Catalog

Love is one of those things that finds you when you least expect it. You can’t really go hunting for it and you can’t predict it. What you can do is help facilitate not-expecting it.

Start by telling yourself that you’ll never fall in love. Look in the mirror every morning at your stupid ugly face and make a mental note that nobody could ever love someone who looks like you. Take a shower and let water pour over you, down the length of your mediocre body. There’s no way another human being could ever find that attractive. Dry yourself off and repeat your mantra to yourself. “I can do anything.” That’s a stupid fucking mantra. You are a dumb fuck. You will never amount to anything and nobody could ever love such a sad waste of space. Get dressed in anything, it doesn’t matter because all your clothes aren’t…

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I Hope You Think Of Me When You Hear A Sex Joke

Thought Catalog

I didn’t think it was possible for a girl like me to find someone as special as you. I know that sounds too cliché but, I really did believe that love wasn’t for me. No boy has ever been interested in me. I’m not particularly beautiful, I’m not graceful or athletic. I’m the default smart girl because I don’t fit into any of the other boxes women seem to be categorized in. This didn’t really bother me because I never really thought about boys until I met you.

We started out as classmates then as friends. We made up inside jokes and you made fun of my innocent ways. We talked about our favorite shows and how Lost changed our lives. Then that one December afternoon we watched that movie and I don’t know about you but, I really did feel something. You told me about your favorite band and I started listening to…

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Love Is The Only Thing That Exists

Thought Catalog

I’ve had a preoccupation lately — especially when walking down the street listening to piano music — with imagining what it would be like to get shot in the chest. There’d be a jolt of impact, a hard jab that knocks the wind out of you. Then I’d drop to my knees, and everything surreal — people running and screaming, maybe a siren, or maybe no one notices at all, just a bird floats overhead in an ordinary sky on an ordinary sunny day. There’d be blood, and then I’d lie down and go to sleep.

I’ve also had a preoccupation — especially on these cold, still nights after a warm day, when spring waits for tomorrow – with thinking about love.

I’ve tried to dismiss it — clunky, overly-emotional collocation; cheap and melodramatic feeling. But I can’t. When I think about loving someone, I think about dying. I think…

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Reading Is Sexy

Thought Catalog

You’ve all had that moment. You’re on the train, coming home from a long, frustrating day at work or that night class you regret taking. You’re slumped over your seat listening to Alt-J or the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs single. You look around you at the faint squalor of the train; the lights on this car seem set to perpetual gray dusk, a metaphor for your mood you don’t appreciate. But then you look across from you and you see him sweating as he tears through a Saul Bellow novel you’ve always sworn to read or Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.

Gone Girl, you wonder? Who is this man? Who gave him that? Is that a gift from a wife or girlfriend? Is he in a book club? Holy shit, that’s so hot.

You then begin to fantasize about this stranger on the train, what genres he’s into and…

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Thought Catalog

You have talked about moving to New York since you were a little kid. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly where the love affair started, but you clearly got it lodged in your brain that it was the place on the map where everything would start making more sense. Through some kind of osmosis, your entire being would be enhanced, and the things you wanted would be made infinitely more possible. There were never enough pictures you could cut out and paste on your wall of the city skyline at night. You wrote poems to New York as though it were a human being, as though it could love you back — even sitting in your bed in a totally different state — and felt like you were speaking to someone who could hear you.

Even though, at least geographically speaking, New York is not that far, you never went. You…

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Thought Catalog

I believe you are my person. I love you, even though you don’t love me. I love you, even though there’s nothing in it for me anymore. There’s just loving you, but that’s enough for me. I find you to be one of the most exquisite humans I’ve ever met, and knowing you is all it takes to love you. I don’t need anything in return. Getting to be acquainted with your intelligence, depth, understanding, endurance, humor, wisdom, (I could go on), is what love is, and it’s why I choose to love you so intently.

Thank you for loving me when I didn’t love myself. I pushed away because I believed that I wasn’t worthy of love. I came back because I thought you were the only person who cared.

But you weren’t, and you’re not. You were, however, the person with whom I fell most intensely in love…

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Thought Catalog

We had the most perfect day, even though it was just any other day. We got back to your place in the evening, we sat in our pyjamas and drank wine, it was like ‘this is what we do.’

I was surprised when we climbed into bed together. I was overly aware that I’d stripped my face of all my make-up and that it was the first time you’d be seeing me without it. I turned the light off swiftly.

I lay there. I could hear you breathing quietly, my head felt fuzzy. Our elbows were touching. I was so aware of the feeling of your skin against mine. I slipped my hand into yours, I didn’t know if this was okay, but I needed you to know that I liked you sexually, romantically, infinitely. You held my hand and then you lightly stroked my fingers. We lay there for…

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Thought Catalog

This is a letter I was too afraid to send out, but it comes from the heart. These are the things I would tell him, if we were to meet again.

Dear You,

Hi. I never knew I’d see you again. It has been ages since I last saw you, and frankly I thought that would be the last of it.

Well, apparently not.

The previous time we spoke seemed like ages ago. Memories of being around you are stored in a rusty cabinet, untouched. I can no longer recall your favorite catchphrases, or the way you wear your hair. I can’t remember the way your eyes would dart around the room, or how you were able to make me feel so overwhelmed with emotions.

But I can remember the way you always had that ugly jeans-and-slippers combination on unless I protested, and the way you gave me sad pitying…

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Thought Catalog

Such a wonderful thing it is, to be chased. To be adored and flattered and most certainly wanted. It is, after all, why we don’t mind when our phones beep and vibrate, letting us know that someone we not so certainly want wants us. But we keep them around because we don’t want it to stop—because that flattery is like a good scotch we want to nurse for a while. Or, at least, until we get sick of it and want to switch to gin.

I’ve been there before—holding on to something I didn’t really want just in case I decided I wanted it. Completely unwilling to cut things off for fear I’d want them again, selfishly holding on because, well, the attention is always satisfying. I’ve played and toyed with someone else’s feelings knowingly aware of the pain I’d be causing but choosing to ignore the reality. And then…

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Thought Catalog


To the girl I loved and lost,

I woke up yesterday from a dream that we were lying in bed together on some lazy Sunday morning. You were talking to your mom on the phone and pretending you were alone while I buried my face in your shoulder and dozed off. I could almost smell your skin and feel the warmth of your naked body against mine until I woke up and you weren’t there beside me. Your absence from my bed served as a painful and palpable reminder that you are gone.

I know we’re not talking right now, but it’s late on the day that I start my new life and I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because I’m going to be doing it all alone. In a few hours, I’ll wake up, shower, make coffee, and go to my new job knowing that when I get home…

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