Have you ever eaten so much that you have to go buy a pregnancy test to make sure you’re not in fact pregnant?
I did. Twice.
They were both negative. Needless to say, I was relieved.
I’m only 23. I was not ready for babies, nor did I want to have babies with the last boy I had sex with — Well, babies and boy being in the same sentence is probably telling enough.
That said, looking at those ClearBlue sticks in the trash bin made me want to laugh out loud.
That’s the thing about adulthood, isn’t it? I…
We matched on Tinder and met up in Soho a few days later. I liked what I saw and by the end of the date, he revealed that within the first 15 seconds he had thought the same too, which explained why we had such a smooth start.
We went to a small, quiet bar and he ordered the drinks for us. After some basic information and banter exchange, he casually asked if I wanted to play “Never have I ever.” It sounded fun to me even though I barely could say that phrase without twisting my tongue. …
When I was in love with Matt, I never thought about what I was looking for with him. I got to see him every day in different colors of suits and I thought it was already too much to ask for.
The man in a navy suit was definitely too much to ask for. His catching my stare and responding with an irresponsibly sweet smile, as though he had already seen through my little secret and enjoyed it, was almost unbearable.
And so when it came to Matt, the man who took pleasure in seeing me miserably in love with…
I loved my father with all my heart. But from the bottom of that same damn crooked heart I must say, with all due respect, he was a fucking dick.
He imprinted onto my naive mind the belief that I was loved, so loved that nothing could ever go wrong, only to pull the rug from under me when he started breaking promises and disappearing.
My mother, though physically present, was often too wrapped up in her own world to care about what was going on in mine. She would dutifully ask questions but rarely ever listen or understand my…
I don’t remember what he looks or sounds like anymore.
I mean I would definitely recognise him either in a photograph or on a crowded street, but his physical characteristics, in my mind, are no longer vivid. They have all become fuzzy like a pixelated image that has lost all its exquisite details. They feel so foreign that sometimes I even doubt whether our encounter was real at all. …
“She’s horrible. To her, I’m never enough.”
She bit her fingers as she muttered those words. I could tell she was shaking a little. She didn’t look at me. She was looking at her toes which were tiny and painted red. Red suited her well. She, to me, was like red — fierce and luscious.
But I knew it wasn’t all that she was. And I loved the fact that I could see her well beyond the controlled way she tried to portray herself, which she had hoped could fool me like she’d fooled all the men crawling into her…
The thing I often did after sex was going to a bar called Ronnie. You heard it right. I didn’t fall asleep or take a shower or order pizza while naked. I went to a bar because it would be too early to do any of those things.
It was only 9 p.m. on a Friday. I kissed him at 8, he finished at 8.30.
As a routine, he would pull me in to cuddle for about 10 minutes just so it didn’t seem like he was only here for the sex, then he quickly got dressed and headed out…
The kind of girl whom you look at, you would notice straight away she’s pretty. Not just ‘kind of’, not just ‘almost’, not just ‘maybe at some angle’ or ‘in a certain light’.
Her prettiness would jump out even in the most blurry, out of frame picture, like the curve along her slim waist or the shape of her voluminous hair, screaming femininity and fertility.
It’s so effortlessly obvious. It’s a thing.
She knew it, he knew it, everyone knew it.
It’s like having a VIP membership to an exclusive club, an automatic invitation to every inner circle, an upgraded…
Have you ever tried to escape from your past? Have you ever had a past that you wanted to escape from?
Back then, I was a cocky, reckless twenty-something who had no dream and direction. I let time pass me by, throwing myself into anything that could distract me from my own problems. Work, sex, alcohol, drugs. With money, everything is possible. All night, every night. Especially those short flings that never meant anything.
I was never serious with anyone, never really honest or upfront about my intention, but not necessarily the bad guy, the asshole, the jerk…
Short stories about relationships and sexuality