Deep Cuts

by Holly Brickley

“I have no talent, just opinions about people who do.”

I found it deeply disappointing even as I related to an awful seed of truth inside it: that all my attempts to grow, to find creative independence and purpose, were at least partly in service of becoming more lovable.

Just forgive yourself, it’s too exhausting not to.

To me it was about how it feels when you’ve lost someone, and the one person you want to talk to about it—the one person who could help you grieve—is the person you’ve lost.

You don’t know how insufferable I can be.” He leaned forward suddenly, moved his knees so they parted mine. “Come over,” he said. “I want to suffer you.”