Attached at the Hip

by Christine Riccio

I’ve always clung to the idea that our love story is legendary.

“I really wanted to be part of a love story and he … was offering one.” Kennedi chuckles. “It’s not a love story if you don’t have the love feelings, Orie!”

To be disconnected is to be disinterested, so there’s this innate feeling of rejection when you’re separated, even though there’s literally no way to stay in touch when you’re not together for a cycle. It’s a weird emotional paradox.

I like how our conversation stops and starts but never loses its place. Like there’s an invisible bookmark we keep sliding in and out as we do other things.

“Just because you haven’t done things yourself in the past doesn’t mean you can’t.

As much as I’m “okay” here by the fire alone, I hate being here by myself. I want a partner. I want to love someone. I want to take care of them, and I want them to take care of me. Is that so terrible? Everyone says you have to stop trying to fall in love for it to happen. It’ll happen when you least expect it. Why can’t I expect it? Why am I not allowed to want to fall in love, for it to happen for me?

Conflated what I wanted my partner to be with the reality of who they actually were.

“In the end, it’s not about messing it up or knocking it out of the park, it’s about getting up off the couch and doing it in the first place. Trying. Growing.

“We only live once, and … I … I want to run into my fears, and pounce on good things, and chase them.” “I think you’re describing a day in the life of an outdoor cat.”