Highway with Green Apples

by Bae Suah

I am a twenty-five year-old who goes to bed every night wondering what I will do the next day. By now, all the other women I know who went to the same all-girls high school as me are at their most self-assured, having married or living as career women in the big city, but I am as unsure of myself as I was at fifteen.

“how can a person know everything at 18, but nothing at 22? and will you still want me, when I’m nothing new?” - nothing new, taylor swift ft. phoebe bridgers

You don’t know, do you? How much I love you. My love for you will never change, even after an ocean of time has passed.

The road emptied again to white. A premonition came over me—a vague sadness, as if this exact feeling, this same summer day, would come around again sometime.

“It’s just a sketch,” I said. “And anyway, it’s not me drawing but a stranger inside of me who compels me to draw. When that happens, I have no choice but to draw, even while driving.”

He loves places like this. Like forest trails on a winter night. He likes going places where no one else would think of going.

If only I could shake this anxiety about the fact that winter is coming. I can’t spend the rest of my life thinking only about seaside bungalows and fruit cocktail with sand in it and sunlight reflecting off of sunglasses.