All I’ve ever wanted to do is be with my friends, kiss someone I love, and tell stories. It is a sign of the madness of the universe that those three things seem so difficult to do.
There are, I suppose, great complexities underlying all of our desires. An urge, a yearning, a tracing of the route in the head, and a kind of despair that maybe we won’t be able to go back. But the truth is, I don’t want much. I’m not asking for the secrets of the world.
Friends. Love. Stories. And I can’t pay the cost.