Crazy

This weekend was really crazy. Crazy in that I saw way too many people from my younger years, crazy in that I feel like a true-blue adult, crazy in that the life I thought I left behind in my move to NYC feels like it will be permantly attached to my heart.

My good friend A-leigh sent me this article a while back and it seems fitting for the events that have transpired over the course of this 3 day vacation. It hits home at this point... not to get all girlie on you people or anything.

Women want things to go on. All things. Even, or perhaps particularly, sad things. We want our lovers to love us forever. Not necessarily to be with us forever, but to carry us someplace in their hearts, someplace prominent. Women want to matter. And as such, we do not like endings. We prefer the untidy swell and ebb of emotion to the change-of-address card. We know that feelings are complicated, fluid, uncontrollable-and all that really count in the final days of life. We know this intuitively, and because we know it, we are happy in the mess.

Men, not so much. When men leave a marriage, they just go. They follow their bliss. They make no apologies. They move on, the cord cut. Women need a reason to leave. "Because I want to," is never enough. We need witnesses and encouragement and approval and an alternate vision of our future.

This may be a bit creepy to post but I'm a self-proclaimed creep so read it and weep. Fo realz.