The Thinnest Air

by Minka Kent

one I fully embrace with eyes wide shut because when you love someone, you trust the process. You fall hard. And you don’t look back. That’s what makes it so intense, so magical.

my perfect husband and quietly appreciating how every square inch of him officially belongs to me now. No other woman can touch him the way I can.

Ha. Yeah, that is how it works.

I’d rather suffer through a thousand pelvic exams than shed a single tear in front of another person.

Damn, girl.

making fun of her for her social media addiction, her affinity for tabloid articles, and wearing too much makeup and too little clothing. He mostly hated that she was overtly sexual, but that was on principle. Raised by two Harvard-educated women’s studies professors alongside three older sisters, Harris was a staunch feminist.

Yes, because nothing screams feminist like slut shaming.

I’d tell her it was okay if people didn’t like her and that it meant she was doing something right.

We’re not meant to be best friends with every person who crosses our paths.

the truth couldn’t care less about what we want to believe.

Not only did she have to raise me, but she was stuck raising my mother most of the time as well.

I can’t imagine it was easy, always anticipating the worst, living your life waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I’ve always had a thing for names. Growing up, there were four other Ericas in my grade. Always swore I’d never give my children a name they’d have to share. If you can find your name on a souvenir shot glass at a drugstore, it’s far too common.”

We treat tragedies like entertainment, the American public priding ourselves on being armchair detectives trying to solve these crimes, but the second the sensationalism dies down and the case grows cold, we move on to the next exciting thing.