"If San Francisco is a city of 7’s. Portland is like a city of 3’s."
“Well… what am I?”
“You’re kind of in your own world. You’ve got kind of a fucked up aesthetic. And you’ve got kind of a fucked up way of talking.”
That was the first time I’d ever heard myself described so succinctly. For the rest of the night I kept thinking, I just want him to show me things. I just want him to show me everything…
But the timing was off.
For weeks and months we would try to get together. I think about all the questions I wanted to ask him. The advice I wanted him to give me. But when the time came it was either too late, or not appropriate, or the movie was starting, or I’d honestly just forgotten.
I wanted to look nice for him. Something would always go wrong there too. I remember putting on my favorite dress. It was cold so I decided to grab stockings. These look nice, I thought. When I put them on they were ripped. Totally ripped.
He started to fade away. I could feel it. They say it’s better to burn out than to fade away. I wanted reassurance. I wanted him to say, “Baby, I’ll be gone for awhile. Don’t worry. I’m still here. Wait for me.”
I guess… just because you “get” someone. Doesn’t mean you know what to do with them.

via LULUANDYOURMOM.

Street Style Inventions, Part 1: The Sock-It Square