“

You’re not tired of dating; you’re just tired. You’re tired of bearing the weight alone. You’re tired of an empty apartment and dinner for one. You’re tired of ricocheting off yourself and slugging shots at the bar. You’re tired of playing dress up with no one to dress you down. You’re tired of the excruciating loneliness that creeps onto tingling skin, begging for touch like sucking for air. And so am I. So is she. So is he, and that girl, and those boys, and so many other people you see on the train, in the market, across the table. But we keep doing it because it’s worth it, because it’s everything, because for all the awkward hellos and terrible dinners, there’s one flawed masterpiece who’s singing your harmony in the SUV three parking spots over.

It’s not about dating. It’s never been about getting set up or going online or any of the crazy things we do to meet someone; it’s not about any of that. It’s about faith. It’s about hope. It’s about remembering the person you’re looking for isn’t a checkmark, but a journey, a stroke of luck, an oh my god and a holy shit and a you won’t believe what happened. It’s the best part of life. And it’s out there. Every great story, every novel and film and letter written only to be burned is about this. And we’re all tired of bearing the weight of those stories… but we bear them together. Keep swimming to the surface, keep swimming ‘til your hands are numb and your lungs are empty and everything is simultaneously tight and enormous because the moment you burst to the surface, your whole existence will change. That’s why we do this. That’s why we do anything.

”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

5:50 pm  •  16 May 2013  •  196 notes

“

Then next time someone tells you you’re amazing, let that be all you hear. Leave the conjunctions in compliment hell where they belong. Look, I’ll always prefer medium rare steak. That doesn’t mean lobster isn’t delicious and that someone wouldn’t kill for it…it just means I want medium rare steak. We always want to be the favored one. We will always want to be the favored one even when the one across from us isn’t the one we favor.

So next time, pretend you’re a restaurant. You’re a brand new restaurant on the market. You want all the five- and four-star reviews you can get. Just get people singing your praises left and right, spreading the word to their friends, their colleagues, their family about what a classy restaurant you are. Get all the accolades and the awards and the kudos and the Yelp reviews and the covers of Bon Appetit. Do everything in your power to make yourself the restaurant you dreamed of…and then eventually, when you’re working hard and loving every minute of it, someone will walk in and say, “This is my favorite restaurant in the world,” and they’re gonna mean it.

”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

5:26 pm  •  2 May 2013  •  91 notes

“

No one ever said dating was easy. As a matter of fact, most people have said it’s impossible, frustrating, and riddled with rules that confuse everyone. It’s basically social calculus. And like high school math, none of us really want to learn, we just want the A+.

So I’ll recommend what my parents used to recommend to me when I got frustrated – take a break. It used to mean go run around outside, have a snack, watch some TV… but let it mean something a little bigger to you. ‘Cause you very well might be the problem, and not that you’re picky or difficult, but that like so many of us, you’re frustrated and tired and over it. So take a break. Hang out with your friends, work out, learn to cook a few new recipes, paint something totally ugly, and when your mind has cleared, try the problem one more time.

”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

12:02 am  •  19 April 2013  •  112 notes

“There are billions of people in this world, but life is long and you’ll never believe the insane ways that the people you meet and kiss and hate and date will intertwine and overlap. Nothing in my life has served me more than being as effervescent as I can in every situation I face. So say hi like it never happened and move on like he doesn’t exist. There is nothing more alarming to a man than a woman who is kind and couldn’t care less.”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

6:23 pm  •  11 April 2013  •  187 notes

“Wanting a committed relationship and conducting yourself as such does not make you clingy. It is possible to want a relationship and to be cool at the same time, despite whatever Bro Code propaganda you might have read online. Acting like you don’t want something serious in efforts to not appear clingy doesn’t protect your feelings – it just forces you to continue acting when he says he doesn’t want something serious either.”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

3:27 pm  •  4 April 2013  •  92 notes

“When you’re in a love drought, it can feel like a damper on your whole life, but try to think of it like this: one summer, it didn’t rain at all. Not one drop. Crops were dying and the weather station was forewarning the end of greenery. One more day without rain and the farms will never grow again! One more day without rain and we’ll dry out and fall like paint chips! You can be a doomsdayer, or you can be the person who every day makes plans that need sunshine. You can be on your bike, hiking, swimming, rafting, going to outdoor concerts, drive-ins, festivals, throwing BBQs, pool parties, and bonfires. Do all the things you can do only do without rain, because no matter what the weather forecast says, it will rain again eventually. Enjoy the freedom of sunshine while you have it.”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

3:11 pm  •  28 March 2013  •  106 notes

“

Write a list of all the actions that, in retrospect, were red flags in your relationships: ignored texts, only calling past 9 pm, treating you poorly in front of their friends, whatever it may have been. This brief list should act as a tangible reminder of times in your next relationship when you should speak out. It’s not when you should go into attack mode, but simply when to say, “Hey, that hurt my feelings.” It won’t make the next guy into a prince, but it will help you be more aware when he’s closer to the Prince of Darkness than Prince Charming.

What’s really important is to not let being treated poorly snowball. If you never reprimand a dog for shitting on the carpet, how’s he going to know he shouldn’t? The nice thing about people, as opposed to dogs, is that if a person repeatedly craps on the carpet of your soul despite your best efforts to tell them not to, you have full right to throw them out. Next time, do so.

”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

4:13 pm  •  21 March 2013  •  57 notes

“You are wearing a frumpy t-shirt that holds no value to you. It doesn’t fit, you don’t remember where you got it. And then a man comes in your life and you drape yourself in his sweatshirts and flannels until you find yourself alone again in your t-shirt. Stop borrowing clothes; you won’t find your joy in someone else’s closet. Take your self, your t-shirt, your sadness and go to the store of life with purpose: to find something that fits. This isn’t Cher’s dream closet; this is going take effort and pain and embarrassment and disappointment. And it’s going to be worth it.”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

9:42 pm  •  21 February 2013  •  24 notes

“You know, I gave up on you today,” I said, asking for him to ask me why.  
“When you left tonight, if I hadn’t reached out, would you have contacted me?”
I was in his arms when he asked me.  I was wearing a soft cotton tee and my hair was loosely tied back.  I looked at him, indignant.  That is not the question I asked for.
“No.”
“Then it’s me who’s pursuing you now, I was the one who reached out.”  
“You didn’t reach out.  You lost and you reacted.  They’re not the same thing.”

Don’t be naive.  

—

We obsessively allow minutiae to control us.  We have no reading comprehension for life, no understanding for the greater scheme.  It’s all what did he say?  And how did she say it?  Where were they when it happened? And why won’t he friend you?  We hear the relationship note for note and not for its song, and this song is not sad, no, it’s worse than that: it’s bad.  

I stumbled to the bus stop at 5 am on Thursday.  I hadn’t slept, and I was exhausted from work and stress.  I’d allowed a man, a boy, into my apartment and my life for amusement and time-passing and I am sure I would have liked him had he let me.  I am sure I would have seen him had he allowed me to be anything more than a game. But I carried my bag to the bus stop alone, without a see you soon to warm my cheeks.  And at that bus stop, I had no name.  I had a ticket and a sallowness.  I felt fine or nothing at all.  

Have you ever stopped to remember if you believe in God?  

In the game of cat and mouse, someone either gets eaten or gets away.  

—

“I threw in the towel on 101.”
“What happened?”
“I went on vacation and I missed someone else.”
“Who?”
“Someone who gives a shit.”  

Are you having fun?

—

I had Love Resolutions and I was cavalierly picking and choosing which ones to employ based on my mood and my agenda.  I was misbehaving and treading water.  I was batting around a toy to amuse myself, waiting for it to play back.  I let 101 be my muse, crushing and pulling and using me.  And I loved it because it made my words like music.  I was in love with my own turmoil, fixating on tiny little nothings, ignoring dreams and hopes and passions.  Denying myself joy and choosing heartache, thinking that the creative process was enabled by a degree of self-inflicted agony.  But at that bus stop, slack-jawed and red-eyed, I wanted with fever and greed to be loved by hands that could map my face and my dreams in one swoop and he never would.  He never could.    

Do you like this person or are you just bored and lonely?  

—

In a penthouse in Chelsea, New York City, with cascading views of the Hudson, I told my best friend about a boy.  I talked about him the way I talked about her: with gratitude, with joy.  I talked about our friendship and my hopes for him and how much I missed him when he was gone.  I showed her his picture and I explained its context.  She nodded, eyeing me suspiciously.  I smiled and sunk into the couch, texting him to tell him I was bragging about him.  He replied, and I giggled.  Quietly, as the sun set and the buildings flickered to life, I ruminated.  I missed someone who was kind to me, who cared about me, who made me laugh and be better. I looked at his name, illuminated on my phone.  102.

Call people.

—

I pedaled harder and faster than ever before.  The wind fought me and I struggled to keep a straight path.  I was fast and strong and dedicated and worthwhile and kind and tough and I was tired of trying to prove it.  I wanted so much to make everyone else happy.  I wanted so much to be someone else’s happiness.  I wanted so much to be happy myself.  And I wanted to believe I deserved it.  I took an aggressive right and skidded through the salt on the road nearly losing my grip, laughing to myself.

I was going to be fine.  

Under the barrage of emails and fire drills, through the subtle let-downs and the aggressive lead-ons, we allow ourselves to weaken.  Through the flagrant tone of someone having a worse day, we allow ourselves to absorb and succumb to that dread.  In the delicate and massive difference between ‘please’ and ‘now’ our hearts race over what?  Over spelling errors and broken plans?  When did we allow ourselves to not only be treated this way but to feel this way?  When did we begin to accept unkindness and casual cruelty as inevitabilities that we dealt with, that we just hoped would turn around?  When did we stop turning them around ourselves?  

Do we choose the path of destruction because knowing it would be painful is easier than hoping for something to finally be something else?  Do we complain and wallow and worry because the proactive risk failure?  Are we unhappy because we are choosing to be?

How many excuses do we need to make for ourselves before we choose joy?  

I pulled into the parking lot and called 102.  

“I want to see you tonight.  I have something I want to tell you.”

Lay it all out there just once this year.

3:52 am  •  25 January 2013  •  88 notes

“Online dating, unfortunately, is still weirdly stigmatized because, at its core, it’s an admission of your desire to be in a committed relationship. How many times have you heard, “I’m not necessarily looking for a relationship, but if I were to meet the right person…” Right, sure. The truth is, a lot of people really want to make pancakes and have Arrested Development marathons with a person they both love and want to make passionate love to. It’s just that none of us will admit it for fear of the super icky crazy terrible chance that we might appear desperate. Newsflash: If Hollywood, history and general human tendencies are any indication, everyone wants to be in love and some of those people have an Internet connection.”

— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy

3:07 pm  •  24 January 2013  •  163 notes