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Half Full or Half Empty?
I referred to as him “Cup Man” as a result of in each photograph on his courting profile, he held a cup. Final Pleasure month, our relationship fizzled. 5 months later, I watched him kiss somebody new at “our” bar within the West Village. Throughout the kiss, Cup Man’s eyes had been locked on mine. I couldn’t look away. Later, I noticed him order two vodka-Cokes, doubtless for himself and his date. Shock: He sauntered to my desk. “Take it,” he mentioned, grinning, sliding a drink over, earlier than leaving abruptly. I stared at this cup, questioning if it was a peace providing or an invite. — Dillon Fernando
A Sort of Second Sight
Earlier than my divorce, I took plenty of selfies and posted them on Fb. I learn the feedback greedily: “Stunning household,” “trying nice.” We have to be OK, I reassured myself, if individuals see us that approach. What an astonishment to fall in love once more in my 50s. I didn’t know intimacy this simple was potential, like loosening shoelaces you didn’t know had been tied too tight. On our first trip collectively, I photographed our lengthy shadows within the desert, holding palms. However I didn’t put up it. I didn’t must. Being checked out, I’ve realized, isn’t the identical as being seen. — Sarah Gundle
The Best Man’s Nice Son
There’s a lady I’m so in love with and we’ve been collectively for 18 months. She broke up with me final week. Driving my 10-year-old son, Max, to a pool social gathering close to Mulholland Drive, he requested me how I used to be feeling about it. I instructed him I used to be unhappy and he mentioned he was unhappy, too. However then he mentioned one thing so lovely. He mentioned, “Dad, she’s lacking out on the best man. You’re superb.” And I slowed the automotive all the way down to a cease and cried. — Steven Dworman
A Assembly of Mes
Think about sitting at a desk with previous variations of your self. I feel it might look one thing just like the scene in “The Nutty Professor,” during which Eddy Murphy performs all his members of the family. I’d be at a eating desk: My present, 20-year-old self, sitting between 18-year-old me along with her hopeful stare, my 12-year-old me who’s too insecure to lookup, and my 10-year-old me whose confidence is immeasurable. The star of the present can be child me with my hair, thick and combed, like a bachatero from the ’70s, smelling like candy hospital cleaning soap, sleeping peacefully. — Niomi Nunez
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