(SARA, 23, sits with her DAD, 57, in a Thai restuarant near Sara’s apartment, waiting for her MOM, also 57, to come back from the bathroom so they can get this show on the road.)

SARA
(impatient)
What’d she, fall in?

DAD
You look…different.

SARA
Oh yeah, I’m growing out my bangs.

DAD
(brightening)
Oh yeah?

SARA
…Yeah…

DAD
You know I’ve never been a fan of when you have bangs. Even when you were a little kid.

SARA
Yeah, I know.

DAD
But something else too… Read More »

When I first moved after college I started talking to a nice boy. He eventually invited me out to dinner and we hit up this cute little Thai restaurant. It was a lovely evening that went on for hours before we both had to head home for the night. We did a little cheek kiss goodbye and promised to speak to each other soon. So, when he hadn’t called three days later, I called him. He didn’t answer. I called again. And again. I left messages and kept my phone close by (like, on my pillow as I slept) so I wouldn’t miss his call. Which never came.

I obviously should have gotten the hint, but I just couldn’t let it go. We had such a great date; how could he just stop talking to me? What did I do wrong? Why would he tell me he’d call if he never planned to? I needed to hear it - I needed to know he wasn’t interested. I needed that closure.

Eventually, which was far too long in any sane person’s book, I gave up and moved on. He wasn’t going to call. I had my closure. Looking back, I realize just how crazy I was. Literally, crazy. No wonder he never called back; he was probably at the police station trying to get a restraining order. But I was young and alone in a giant new city. That boy was the one thing I had to hold onto while I started a new job, found a new apartment and adjusted to life outside of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Read More »