We Are Never Meeting in Real Life. by Samantha Irby

I mean, the way I feel about fidelity has evolved over the last ten years of my life. People change, our desires evolve, and it feels foolish to me to expect what you'll want two, five, or ten years from now will be exactly the same thing that fills you up today. And if you needed to fuck somebody else, we could talk about it. I would never expect you to walk around with a paper bag over your head to avoid catching the eye of a stranger, nor would I discourage you making friendly conversation with whomever you might encounter during the day. “It's so weird that adults in committed relationships have a problem with something so innocuous as flirting. And it's easily the best thing I've ever felt.” This feels safe, and steadfast, and predictable. No sitting in my car outside her house at dawn, to make sure she's alone when she leaves. No checking her emails or calling her job to make sure she's actually there. No parsing through spun tales about why it took her so long to come back from the store. I don't walk around mired in uneasiness, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Or what you could possibly do to make it come home and stay there. It never leaves you wondering who could possibly be texting at 3 am. It's not a game you don't understand the rules of, or a test you never got the materials to study for. “Real love feels less like a throbbing, pulsing animal begging for its freedom and beating against the inside of my chest and more like, 'Hey, that place you like had fish tacos today and i got you some while i was out', as it sets a bag spotted with grease on the dining room table.

We Are Never Meeting in Real Life. by Samantha Irby