Same As It Ever Was

by Claire Lombardo

Everyone liked to think their suburb was the best suburb, but really they were all the same, slight variations in proximity to the lake or degree of amorphous “diversity” or “historical significance” but ultimately a wash.

“I feel like I’ve been in this fog since Ben was born and sometimes the only thing that propels me—you know, onward—is the notion that it’s going to lift eventually. The thought of inviting it in for a longer stay seems—insane, doesn’t it?”

a lost year, really, one of many in her twenties; the hole it left in her life was infinitesimal enough to have closed up almost immediately, like a lobe around the absence of an earring.

“Isn’t it okay to want something without fully knowing why you want it?”

Isn’t that part of what defines every relationship? That mixture of how much you need someone and how much they need you back? It’s never an equal amount. And it fluctuates—ideally it does—because both of those things are exhausting