Proof of Life: Photos of Life in New York, Year 1
Pics or it didn’t happen
Pics or it didn’t happen
My friend said this to me once after I again rehashed The Big Breakup to her years after the fact. Her mother had said it to her once before and it stuck with her just as it has stuck with me.
A few nights ago, I was at a party where a girl wanted to kiss me; she saw me on the dance floor and made a beeline for my face.
I’ve been ready to crawl out of my skin for some time, imagining I could forcefully peel away my own outer layer for no particular reason other than I wanted to. It’s stifling in here.
Looking back through the friendship graveyard, I find that although I wasn’t consciously or actively trying to steer my life and relationships a certain way, I’ve emerged with the healthiest that I think I’ve ever had.