the only domestic instinct my parents have managed to pass on to me is the tendency to hoard multiple plastic bags in another plastic bags despite the fact that I will probably never need this many plastic bags in my adult life
"the first time we met, we hated each other." "no, you didn’t hate me, i hated you. the second time we met, you didn’t even remember me" "i did too, i remembered you. the third time we met, we became friends." "we were friends for a long time." "and then we weren’t." "and then we fell in love."
when you realize your adult decision has unforeseen consequences: