There's a few things about my blog that you should know.
I go by Hopeless Romantic for many reasons, but I guess one of them would be to protect the innocent. I'm not afraid to say what I think, so that also might be another reason. Haha. So, if some person I know irl were to come here and read every single one of my entries, they probably wouldn't know it was me. That's also why I make nicknames up for people I blog about.
I'm probably a lot more different than what most people would expect someone my age to be. Sure, I love clothes and make up and I'm a huge sucker for boybands.
But, I've been told that I have an old soul (Google it). Who knows? Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But please, take me seriously. That is all I ask. I'm a girl who's never been in a relationship before, so I don't throw the word 'love' around like a hot potato.
But I'm bound to have many crushes on the way, so, please enjoy reading about my roller coaster of a life.

Name : Sarah

I'm black, age 23.

Waist length hair, baby face, social anxiety.

Likes: Daydreaming, writing, reading, learning, fashion, eating, movies, all kinds of music, the color pink, kpop/jpop, kdramas/jdramas, the hollow heart emoticon, things that are cute, making people laugh, comic books.

Hates: Spiders, clubbing and or partying, really hot weather, close minded people, bigots, extreme sports.

contact:

email : here.
[NEW]twitter: @xohplssrmntc
follow me on twitter!♡


F.A.Q.

"Where are you from?"
The United States, in the western region of the country. I used to say 'mid-west', but just so you know, I didn't actually know what it meant, and I was using it wrong. Haha.

"Who do you think you are?"
Someone who's scared of everything and who hasn't completely figured out how to live yet.

"If you're so afraid of love, why are you so obsessed with it?"
I still haven't figured that out. But aren't we all?

{ ♡ }

imboycrazy I Wrote This for You. Le Love Gala Darling Caroline Calloway Insta-Memoir
if you'd like to be listed here, let me know!
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Next? Next? Next? Next?

To my beloved Internet,

It has been long. Much too long. How I've missed you.

I have started and stopped several entries before this one. I never posted them because they didn't feel quite right. And just as well, I've been so swamped with my fiction writing this year (a revision on one of my novels that resulted in axing 50k words from it, work on another novel I started in '16, and finishing a whole novella!) that I felt like I couldn't dedicate enough time to writing a nice update for you all.

Also, at some point, there was so much happening that I didn't feel like I could adequately write about it all. But, as always, there is the ever-famous bulletpoint entry. So let me sum it up for you:

• In March of this year, I entered my 25th year around the sun. Many confusing, exciting things have happened in my 25th year, but I've enjoyed 25. 25 is nice, and so far, much nicer than being 24.
• In May of this year, this blog turned 10 years old. An entire decade of being your ridiculous, overly-sensitive, one-and-only Hopeless Romantic.
• I continued working at my job, and I continued loving it, as well as being able to experience wonderful opportunities for my resume, as well as wonderful life experiences.
• I started going to the movies by myself, and it turned into one of my favorite new hobbies. Turns out I'm a bit of a movie junkie, and I enjoy watching them the most when I'm alone, but with a group of other movie junkies who watch movies the same way I do--silently. Ahh, sweet silence.
• I started seeing someone, who then became my very first boyfriend.

Labels: adulthood, anniversary, blog stuff, books, breakup, brennan, bulletpoint entry, firsts, goodbyes, jon, love, online dating, ricky bobby, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, well thats the end of that

Internet. Long time no see. The year has gone by and the seasons have changed, and it's fall once again.



2017 has been a ride. And it's still not over with yet--still three whole months to go.

So much has changed. So much has changed in 9 months that when I stop to think about it, I can't believe it's only been 9 months and not years.

I don't know where to start except to start at the beginning. So why don't we start with January?

January. A black hole in my memory.

I lost my dog. After a whole holiday season of her condition improving, and us hoping that she would continue to remain stable as long as possible, she worsened. She, the gluttonous queen of snacks and begging for more snacks, had stopped eating.

She only ate when persuaded, and a switch from dog food to mushy, homemade rotisserie chicken food only staved it off for a few weeks. That was one of the hardest parts for me--seeing everything she used to be disappearing.

We made the difficult decision to put her to sleep. And I lost my best friend in the entire world.

January, for me, is one large hole of emptiness whenever I look back on it--all I can remember is obsessively watching a show on Netflix, eating cereal and instant ramen on the rare occasions that I even had an appetite, and crying in my bed. Vaguely, I remember numbly going on a huge Amazon shopping binge the day after she left me. I spent close to a hundred dollars, and received packages for two weeks straight.

I also remember going to my first real doctor's appointment in 9 years and getting an x-ray on my knee. Then I returned to my bedroom, returned to my bed, and disappeared again. The x-rays came back fine.

February was more of the same. My dad went on a business trip right before Valentine's Day, brought me back a teddy bear on the 14th as a souvenir. I watched more Netflix, obsessively watched figure skating competitions, and ate more cereal and ramen. Lost a ton of weight even though I didn't mean to. Deleted my dog sitting profile for good.

March was lighter, better. My birth month was tinged with light here and there--I watched Moana about a million times, cried every single time. I even watched it on my birthday, after getting some delicious takeout at home and some great wine.

April, though. Things began to happen. I began to come back to life again.

I went to my first concert in 8 years. Cried and sang and screamed my lungs out the entire time. Traveled outside of my city for the first time in 5 years. Got a breakfast platter at a diner 1 in the morning before coming home from the concert and crashing and not waking up until 2 PM the next day.

This concert revitalized me. For the first time in months, my pulse raced. For the first time in months, I felt things I had forgotten. I was alive.

After my concert adventure, I was myself again.

I was still mourning, but I used all my emotions and wrote everything I had into my April Camp NaNoWriMo project, the first serious novel I had ever started when I was 16, which I worked on last July too. I wrote and wrote and wrote.

May, I continued to write. I applied for a volunteer position at the library--something I had thought of the month before. I realized I needed to be somewhere, do something. And this was something I could do, and do well.

June, I followed up my application with emails to the right people. One week later, I had an interview. And at that interview, I was offered the job. ON THE SPOT. And just like that, although after years and years of applying for jobs and never getting a bite, I had a job.

The rest of June, I got used to my new place of work, once a week. Got to know everyone and got to figuring out how everything worked there. Not without anxiety, though, of course. But I did it all willingly, because I was amazed by this chance that I was being given, and I didn't want to chicken out.

July, I continued getting used to things at my job. I also continued to write, on a separate book from what I'd been working on in April and May. I learned that having a 2 or 3 drinks still affects me two days afterwards, and to not do that right before my work days anymore. Heh. Thanks alot, fourth of July. I also watch fireworks in the candlelit backyard with Mom.

August, I finally feel like I'm fitting in at work and that I'm getting the hang of things. But best of all--no, BIGGEST of all: I finish my book, the one I'd started when I was 16. I finally, finally finish it. I cry and cry and cry with relief and happiness. And then I send it out to beta readers and critique partners alike, trying my best to swallow the nerves at other people reading and critiquing my pride and joy. Still working on that.

So, here we are now. September. And what a month it's been.



Mostly, I've been working, and reading, and watching lots of Gilmore Girls, and waiting on responses from all of my readers. None yet. I may have crumbled in panic over this a couple of times so far. But at the moment, I'm holding it together pretty well!

But.

There's a reason I've come on here today to update you all about this devastating, crazy, and exciting and strange and new year.

For a long time, I didn't think I could come on here and talk about things. Because for a while, I thought that what I faced early this year was my life from now on. When you're buried in grief, it's hard to imagine life ever feeling any other way ever again.

But then June happened. And life is so different right now. Completely different. But a good different. The kind of different that gives me hope.

And now, in September, something else huge happened.

Brennan. And his girlfriend. No longer together, as of last month--in August.

You know...it was weird. The moment I found out, I was in this sort of daze. I was almost in denial at first--I thought I was imagining it.

I'll admit it: I snooped his girlfriend's (now ex) Facebook. Oh, come on! Like you've never done that before, Internet?? Social media snooping is like an international sport at this point. Everyone does it! And by now I'm a pro at it.



And after all, that was how I found out he had a girlfriend two years ago in the first place--snooping his Facebook, then full on snooping hers because her whole profile is set to public, unlike Brennan's, which is semi-private. (Will I have the guts to actually friend him on Facebook one of these days? Time will tell.)

Now, another admission: I snooped her page way longer than I probably should have.

But there was a vibe to her recent posts that I couldn't quite put my finger on--a noticeable lack of Brennan. She's the type of person that tags everyone in random stuff on FB throughout the day, and makes regular status updates, posts pictures of where she goes and what she's doing. Not an entirely smart move to make when your social media is completely public. Especially for creeps like me. I digress.

ANYWAY. Yeah, she was always making gushing posts about him and posting pictures of the two of them together. And it went from always tagging him and posting on his wall and vice versa to...nothing. Except for lots and lots of angsty mood status updates with sad emojis and sad-but-supportive reactions from her friends, mid-August.

Then it finally occurred to me to stop being a creep and to just freakin' check her relationship status. I scrolled back up her page, eyes darting, searching for it. Then I found it.

Relationship status: Single.

Whoa. There it was, in black and white.

I ruminate over this for a few days, let it soak in. And that's when I realized that Brennan had noticeably re-appeared in my social media likes and Snapchat story views near the middle of August.

Ho.

ly.

Crap.

This realization gave me the courage, a few days later, to slide into Brennan's Instagram DMs. AGAIN.

I sent him something to the effect of, "Hey, stranger. How have you been?" Innocuous enough, right? That way, it looked friendly, and platonic. Just in case I was wrong about what my very eyes had seen for themselves. Because I'm paranoid like that.

But, lo and behold, all of my fears and paranoia were for nothing. Because when he replied, he called me 'cutie', just like he always used to. Like no time had passed at all.



Can I just say? I felt so validated. I still feel validated.

All those times that noticed all the times he would like my personal posts, and watch my Snapchat story when I had selfies in it--I'd always just had this feeling, like it meant something that he was still bothering to pay attention after all this time. All the other guys I'd been involved with fell off of my social media after a certain amount of time, stopped caring eventually. He never did.

I knew it meant something. I knew it.

And Internet. Let me tell you. Brennan started flirting with me. Started flirting with me hard.

I'm not going to lie, it felt good, really good, to have very clear proof that Brennan is still attracted to me. Especially now that I've long realized my feelings for him.



We talked for about a week, catching up.

He graduated earlier this year, and now has a great first job straight of out college, amazingly. He told me that he had decided to break up with his ex last month, and that it had been his decision. He also noted knowingly, to my mortification, that it was interesting that I had just randomly decided to text him out of the blue after he had just become single. I swear he knows that I found him on Facebook somehow--I don't know how he knows that, but he's pretty intuitive, so I guess I'm not surprised he knows. I just told him jokingly that maybe it was intuition, and he just laughed it off and changed the subject.

I told him that I had dropped out of college due to finances, but that I intend to finish my degree one day. I also told him about how much I love my new job, and that my anxiety has been much more manageable these days since I started taking some supplements (and they have helped me. They've helped a ton.). I told him I had been doing better the past few months than I have felt in years. He told me he was super happy to hear that I was feeling better, and he said it in the most genuine way. And when I read it, it gave me butterflies.

He continued to flirt throughout all of this, and the butterflies in my stomach rioted. For God's sake, I was swooning. I have not swooned since...well. Since my first kiss. But before that??? YEARS. And this was just from talking to him.

All he had to say was that he adored my lips, and that they looked luscious. And instantly I was a blushing, squealing mess, with my face buried into my pillow. And the same thing happened when he sent me a selfie, showing me his new haircut, which makes him look so effing hot. Oh my God. I think that Brennan is hot. And I want to jump his bones.



Hell. I like Brennan, Internet. I really, really like Brennan.

It terrifies me how much I like Brennan.

I have not liked anyone this way since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, the whole reason I started this blog. I finally get what people mean when they say they feel like they're in high school again--that's exactly how I feel right now. With all of the ups and downs that goes with those feelings. I feel like I'm going crazy.

So onto the ups and downs.

As exciting as all of that was, the entire time I felt this low current of worry. Because I couldn't stop remembering that Brennan and his ex broke up only last month. One month ago.

In the grand scheme of things, 1 month isn't long. It isn't long at all. And I have no idea what a breakup is like.

I mean, of course I know what heartbreak is like. Hell, that's the whole reason I created this blog in the first place--because of my first broken heart.

But breakups? Breakups that are your decision? I don't know what that process is like. I have no clue how that feels, and what the consequences feel like, or how long it takes to move past a breakup that was your decision. It seems different from a mutual breakup, and different from when someone gets dumped.

So this whole time, I can't help but wonder: Am I letting myself be a rebound?

I mean. 1 month guys. That's so recent. Just a few weeks. I barely feel different from one month to another. 9 months is another story. (See above.) But 1 month? That's barely anything at all.

If I started dating Brennan now, that would make me a rebound. And I don't want to be a rebound. Not at all.

My feelings for Brennan deserve more than being a rebound. And if Brennan had feelings for me at all, even remotely, I think that deserves more than a rebound fling, too.

So. Because of these thoughts, infuriatingly, it soured me to this flirting between us. Even though two seconds ago I was so excited about it, these thoughts made me question it.

And I couldn't help but notice that every time I asked Brennan if we could switch from DMs to texting, and asking for his number because I had deleted it some time ago when I'd gotten a new phone, he had kept brushing it off and changing the subject. And so that made me see his flirtation in a different light, too: Maybe Brennan doesn't have feelings for me at all. Maybe he was just flirting with me because he felt like it, because he can now without being tied down in a relationship. Maybe that's all he wanted.

As all of these thoughts gathered in my head, meanwhile, I had sent Brennan a surprise selfie of me in my cute pajamas.

And he left me on Read for 2 days without even the smallest response.



....Internet. Am I misreading things, or is Brennan not actually interested in me at all?

 God, I feel crazy. I feel like I'm going crazy. And I feel stupid.

Why can't I figure out what he wants? Am I just misreading all of this?

After those two days, he only said that he'd been busy, and that I looked lovely. But my mind immediately skipped over the compliment and dwelled on the 'busy' comment. Because I couldn't help but wonder what had kept him so busy that he had time to open my selfie and look at it but not to type even a single word response.

Tired of feeling crazy, and tired of the ansty stomach ache I'd had for those 2 consecutive days that he'd ignored me, I decided to just take it out of my hands.

I told him that he seemed preoccupied, that it wasn't a big deal, and gave him my number, saying I was tired of DMing inside of Instagram and to text me when he was ready. And that if he didn't there wouldn't be hard feelings. (A lie. But I wanted it to seem that way, anyway.)

I just had a feeling that this may be something other than me. After all, he just went through a breakup last month. And he just got a new job. And I have no idea what's going on in his personal life other than that.

So it might not be me. It's difficult for me not to take things personally--especially because of my anxiety. The anxiety monster in my head reads into every single interaction I have throughout the day and over-analyzes it to death. Good or bad.

But I'm just trying my best to be understanding right now. Even if my first, knee-jerk reaction is to feel hurt and to push him away again.

This is a circumstance that I have never been through before. Being a potential rebound isn't a nice feeling. And I want to express that to him--but not yet. It's too soon. I don't want to assume anything, and I don't want to pressure him. No matter how much I like him. And no matter how much I'm bursting to tell him how much I like him.

Not yet. It's not the time yet. I need to be considerate of him, and to give him time and space.

So that's what I'm going to do. No matter how much it's killing me to do, I'm going to do it.

And now he has my number again. The ball is in his court. And if he never texts me at all, I'll have me answer, and I can move on.

At least I, for the very first time, won't have regrets about never doing anything. I took a chance, a risk, which I never used to do before. I put myself out there instead of running away. And that was exactly what wanted for myself this year--to take chances. To be brave.

If this doesn't work out, Internet, and he doesn't want me the way I want him, at least I know I was brave.

I'm still nervous. I still check my phone way more than is necessary. I still feel a small twinge of disappointment when I receive a new text and it's not him. It's been one week. I'll give him more time.



If after two weeks he doesn't text, I'll consider that my answer and begin to move on.

But at least this time I'll be able to move on for real, instead of running and hiding and hanging on to old memories without having any sure answers. At least now I'll know.

Stay tuned.

xo Hopeless Romantic

(PS: Happy belated Autumn equinox. Change has come. And I welcome it.)

Labels: autumn, brennan, change, i'm baaaaack, job stuff, life, progress, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, tragedy

Internet. What a night last night was.

I don't even know where to start. Not since high school have I had a night this significant.

To be honest...I didn't think I would ever be writing an entry like this. At least not for a good while longer. Receiving my first kiss was of course something I hoped for, but I never even fathomed that it could happen this year, even this week. But it did.

Let me start this crazy story from the beginning.

His name is Luke*.

I swiped right on Luke two weeks ago. We matched immediately.

It happened during a surprising, short lived burst of bravery I had on Tinder where I swiped right 4 TIMES in one session (unprecedented for me) and inexplicably matched with all four of them. Of the four, though, only 2 of them actually messaged me.

One was Luke, and one was a dude I'll call Roy*.

I texted them both at the same time for a day. Luke asked if we could "hang out sometime". I said sure, maybe next weekend (all the while in the back of my mind I was sure that I would bail last minute and say that I was busy).

Then for a few days Luke and I didn't talk, and I talked to Roy a lot more. Me and Roy had a ton of interests in common.

After another day or two, Roy asks me out, too. Like an idiot, I forget that I had already agreed to something with Luke that weekend, and I tell Roy, "Sure, I'll be free this weekend!"

Then...later, I remember. Crap. I double booked. This had never happened to me before. I hadn't ever had 2 people interested in me at the same time.

But, also remembering that Luke hadn't even talked to me in like 3 days, I shrugged it off. Our plans had never been solidified anyway, and he probably decided he didn't want to go out with me after all. Whatever. I was used to that at this point. AhemAMADcough. (Speaking of, guess who finally moved? Saw it on Instagram. Bon voyage, Amad. Have fun in La La Land.)

So, I carried on, fully convinced that that Roy and I would be going on a date.

Well...until Luke texted me on Wednesday.

Luke and I resumed talking, and weirdly, my conversation with Roy got abruptly cut off. I messaged him again to maybe start our talking again, thinking he just forgot to reply, but it was totally radio silence. Zero word from him since then.

So Luke and I text for 2 days straight now, and on Thursday night asks if I'd still like to hang out on Saturday.

Considering Roy presumably has fallen off the face of the planet at this point, and the more I talk to Luke the more I realize that we have more in common than Roy and I had in common, I say yes to Luke instead.

Friday...the panic starts to set in.

As much as Luke liked to call it "hanging out"...I knew it wasn't. I don't get why guys my age hate calling dates what they are, but they are dates, whether they want to call them that or not. This was a date date, and I hadn't been on a date since Brennan. (About a year and a half ago now.)

Crap. I had a date!!!! My knee was still hurting and I was still recovering from my near week-long impromptu sitting stint last week (long story). How was I supposed to go on a date?????

Then even more panic flooded in.

What if it went terribly and my impression of Luke was completely wrong? What if he was rude and narcissistic like Amad? What if he was nothing like his pictures and I was uncomfortable? Then, even worse--what if something was wrong with me?!?! What if he showed up, saw me, then immediately walked back out?



Then, worst of all: What if it went great for once? What would I do then? How would I handle it?

Ready or not, though Saturday finally came. As I always do for dates, I spent hours getting ready. (Spent a record 2 hours on my makeup. It looked great and I mean, for that crazy amount of time, it should have!) I pick out a cute yet casual outfit, complete with flat sneakers to accommodate my still healing knee. I do my hair in a cute yet not-too-fancy hairstyle.

Lo and behold, it was snowing. On the last day of April. I KNOW. The freezing weather made me not want to leave the house at all, as it always does, but in the end, I'm glad I did.

I finish getting ready, and by late afternoon, it's time to meet Luke.

Stepping out of the snowy tundra outside and into the warm coffee shop, I search for him at first. Not an easy task, considering I wasn't wearing my glasses (faux lashes make glasses impossible). Soon, though, I see a guy stand up from one of the tables and slightly wave at me, and I make my way over, my stomach in knots.

He greets me with a hug, and I hug him back. As I pull back, I try to read his face. I can't tell if he looks disappointed, disinterested, nervous, or if that's just his normal resting face.

I say I'm going to get my drink, and he says he'll buy my drink for me and comes with me. A little awkwardly, we walk over there together. He asks what I want, without thinking I blurt out, "Hot chocolate," and even though I love hot chocolate, this place has milk based hot chocolate. Since I'm lactose intolerant, that was maybe not the best choice. Oh well. Too late to take it back.



He kindly pays for both drinks and we sit at the table. I get another good look at him, and I realize his whole face is red. He also avoids prolonged eye contact with me--which is usually just my problem. He seems really nervous, and somehow, it's reassuring. Immediately, I ask him questions about himself, wanting him to feel more at ease.

We talk about his job (paid internship) and his art (he's super SUPER talented at drawing), and soon he loosens up and isn't as red. Finally, I see him smile. He has a great smile. He's one of those people that look completely different when they smile--it changes his whole face.

We talk more and more, animatedly about our shared interests and seriously about each of our passions. We click. We laugh and relate. I tell him I still live at home, and that I don't drive, and he accepts it easily (he still lives with his folks as well). I talk about how much writing means to me, and he listens. Really listens. And after I finish, he says, "That's wonderful."

As soon as he says that, I already know without that choosing to meet Luke in person had been the right decision to make.



Soon, we realize the sun has gone down. 3 hours had passed already.

Luke asks if I'd want to go watch a movie, and with the way that he words it, I realize that he didn't mean the movie theater. But we're having such a nice time that I don't think that I want it to end just yet. And watching a movie sounds nice. So I agree.

He throws his drink away, and then proceeds to pick up all the straw wrapper rippy bits that I'd unknowingly made while I was nervous earlier. I thank him and apologize, laughing because I hadn't even realized I'd done that.

We shoulder on our coats and head outside where the snowstorm has picked up even more, and cottony flakes are lightly falling from the sky.

He opens the doors for me, and I thank him. We get into his (well taken care of and nice) car, and he starts to drive through the snow to his house. On the way we talk about what kinds of music we like, and the kinds of music we grew up listening to.

In about 15 minutes, we're already there. He lives on a quiet suburban street much like mine.

We go into his house, and his dad is in the kitchen. A spike of nervousness hits me again, and when Luke introduces his dad to me, I tell him it's nice to meet him and call him 'sir'. He asks me how I am, I say fine and ask how he his, and he says he's fine. Thankfully after that the introduction is over and I can breathe a little.

We go downstairs where the entertainment center was, and I'm relieved to see it, as I had been worried that 'movie' had been code for something else. He asks what I want to watch, and I look through his movies to decide.

I decide on an alien invasion movie that I had never seen before, and he says it's one of his favorites as he pops it into the movie player.

Feeling a little out of my element, considering I had only just met this guy in person today and I was already at his house, I sit on the love seat by the armrest and try to make myself as small and as unimposing as possible.

He asks if I'm cold and if I want a blanket, and I say sure, since I decided to wear tights and a tennis skirt during a snow storm. He hands the blanket to me and I thank him. The movie begins and then, as I put the blanket over my legs, he turns out the lights. Oh.

Then he sits on the couch, scooches right next to me, and drapes the blanket over his legs too.

Oh.

It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out what might happen, and I try to mental prepare myself. It suddenly occurs to me that I've never watched a movie with a boy at a boy's house, alone, EVER, in my entire life. Why had I immediately assumed that when he asked to watch a movie, that he meant only watch a movie????

I realized that perhaps 'movie' was code for something else after all.

He asks if I need anything, and I say no. The movie starts, and I'm tense, arms folded, face carefully blank, acting like I'm paying close attention to the movie but I'm actually fuh-REAKING OUT.

The nervousness makes my stomach churn, and then I realize that I had never eaten dinner, and it was almost 4 hours past dinner time. The thought makes me even more hungry, and I can't quell the growl my stomach makes. I quietly hope he didn't hear it.

Finally, 15 minutes or so into the movie, I ask if he has any snacks to eat. He says that he's hungry too, and immediately he goes upstairs to the kitchen to find something to eat. I take this time to breathe and calm down so I won't be so tense.

In a minute or so, he comes back, and gives me a list of snacks that they have. Muffins was one of them, and so he leaves again and then comes back with muffins. He sits back down, offers me the plate to catch the crumbs with, then we eat our muffins and continue to watch the movie.

At this point I'm not as nervous, considering I've had something to eat now. So I take forever eating the muffin (because I'm a slow eater) and eventually I finish, and he offers to get the plate out of my way, and I thank him as he does.

We get back to watching the movie. About a few minutes after that, he does...the move.



The arm around the shoulder thing (except without the corny yawn part).

I freeze again. The moment oddly reminds me of the time You-Know-Who did the same thing in junior year, minus the movie watching. I froze up exactly the same way. Only this time, there was no friends near me to seamlessly divert my awkward, frozen reaction to the physical contact. We were alone.

My brain is screaming at me to react in some way, and so what I do is free my hair from under his arm. He laughs nervously and apologizes, and it reminds me yet again that he's just as nervous as I am, and it's again reassuring. I tell him it's okay and laugh too, and I take that moment to rearrange myself so that I'm a little more comfortable.

It helps...a little. Still freaking out. My shoulders, where his arm is across, feel like they're on fire. My leg keeps twitching. It feels like I'm breathing way too loud and swallowing way too much. I know he can hear me swallow, because I can hear him swallowing hard, too. And breathing hard.

There's a palpable tension there in that room between us. And I haven't felt that in God knows HOW long. (6 years, to be exact.)

We sit like that for the rest of the movie, and because I actually got myself to pay attention to the last half hour, I applaud because I loved it. I tell him I loved it, and he says he's glad I enjoyed it. His hand tightens slightly on my shoulder, and I ask if his arm is numb. He says not at all, and that I barely weigh anything. And I told him I was relieved because I was worried about that.

I comment a little more on the movie, and he agrees with me, and I feel the tension even more now. There's a lull, and just before I can start to feel uneasy--it happens.

He reaches across me with his free hand, very gently touches my cheek and turns my face towards his face. He leans in.

Before I can prepare for what I think it might be like, or freak out at all, it's already happening. His lips press against mine. I freeze in shock again.

I begin to register what's happening. His lips are smooth and soft against mine. I thought it would be...wetter. Like maybe too wet? But it was a nice amount of softness. His stubble scrapes my face, but not unpleasantly. His aftershave smells really freakin' good. His nose bumps into my cheek. His thumb strokes my other cheek.

It's completely different from what I've thought it would be like for the past...when did I hit puberty...13 years? It's unfamiliar, and confusing, but not unwelcome.

Finally, I snap out of my stupor, and I start to move my lips, trying to match his movements.



(Okay, sorry. Enough k-drama gifs.)

I had heard that when you get your first kiss, you figure out what to do. I didn't believe that, not for one second. 'But there must be some trick!' I would think after hearing that. 'Some secret that I don't know! What is it!! TELL ME THE KISSING SECRET!'

But, honestly? That advice is so accurate. After knowing I should try to match him, and try not to let our teeth bump (I still did once. Oops.), I was just...doing it. I don't know if I did it well or not, really. But I did it.

Internet. I kissed a boy.



After maybe...I don't know. 30 seconds? A minute? (My mind was somewhere else, I have no clue how long it was!) He pulled away, briefly, then leaned in once more to press his lips to mine again.

He pulls back again, looks down at me, and at this point my brain is totally kaput, and I say, like a total fucking nerd, "Um, thank you."

He chuckles and says, "You're welcome." Then kisses my cheek, and then my temple. And it's so much overwhelming physical contact that I have NEVER HAD BEFORE IN MY LIFE that I just slump down against his shoulder in a giddy daze. He hugs me against him with his arm tighter, and then gently, he takes my hand out of my sleeve and laces his fingers through mine.

My heart is racing, and suddenly I realize how sweaty my hand is, so I apologize for it being sweaty, and he says he didn't even notice.

We sit there like that for a few minutes, in a comfortable silence. I say that I'm sleepy, and he says he could tell. He lets go of my hand, then reaches over and softly strokes my hair and brushes it away from my face. For a good 5 seconds I'm positive that I may just pass out from swooning. (Have I ever mentioned that I love getting my head/face touched? I'm like a freaking cat. My eyes almost rolled back into my head. It took everything me not to actually mewl like a cat.)



I ask what time it is, and he tells me it's about 20 minutes past ten. I can't even remember the last time I was out so late, and I tell him that I should probably get home. He says he figured it would probably be time for me to head home soon, and tells me he'll drive me home.

When I get up from the couch, my knees buckle with weakness, and I glance at him, hoping that he didn't see. If he did, he didn't say anything.

As we open the front door, the snowfall from the past two hours is revealed. Even bigger snowflakes are falling, and it honestly looks magical.



Luke opens the passenger door for me and I settle into the passenger seat. He brushes the snow off the car windows outside. I begin shivering, and at first I think that it's from the cold, but then I realize it's the jitters taking over as I begin to comprehend what had just happened.

I whisper to myself, "Oh my God." Then I whip my phone out to send a quick mass tweet to my friends to tell them the crazy news of my first kiss.

He enters the car, and of course I play it cool again. On the way to my house, we make more small talk in between me giving him directions.

We arrive at my house 15 minutes later, and he gets out to walk me to my front door. He hugs me, and I hug back. I thank him, telling him I had a great night. He says we'll have to do it again, and I agreed. Before we break the hug, he leans down for one more kiss. And I think that if it happens again I'll really lose my cool, so I smile and tell him goodnight and to drive home safely. Then I go inside the house.

My dad greets me when I go in, and unfortunately I don't look in a mirror to see my smudged lipstick until after we're done talking. He almost definitely noticed. Womp womp.

Then I went straight to my room, told all my friends all about it as they freaked out and congratulated me, and then around midnight when I came down from my high, I went into the kitchen to heat up some leftover spaghetti because I was starving.

I didn't think I would EVER sleep, but sometime around 3am I finally passed out.

So....what's next in store for Luke and I?

I don't know what's next. But the fact of the matter is that he is, and always will be, my first kiss ever.

How I managed to have such a lovely, adorable first kiss, I'll never know. The whole thing sort of felt like something from a contemporary YA book or k-drama. I still kind of can't believe it actually happened, and part of me still wonders if I hallucinated the whole thing. I'm still in a daze and it's been a whole day.

But I guess that's one thing that I can stop beating myself up over, Internet. Once upon a time, I'd cry myself to sleep thinking something like this would never happen to me. And now it has.



I'm not going to pile expectations on after this experience, Internet. I'm not going to overthink things.

But maybe...just maybe...it might be okay to like Luke. Maybe just a little bit.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: amad, dates, firsts, luke, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new

Hoo boy, Internet.

I got some updates for you, and of course some more trademark Hopeless Romantic rantings. Buckle up.

What should I update you on first? Well, since technically my blog is a dating blog, why don't I start with what y'all really want to hear about: Amad.

So, after I wrote my last entry, I waited for his next move, aka setting up when we would figure out a set day and everything. No move came, except for some more likes from him on Instagram here and there. And so I kept waiting. And I waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

And I spiraled further into madness.

Two weeks had officially passed since the initial asking out, and two solid weeks of radio silence followed. Two weeks where I had basically overthought every possible thing and dug myself into a hole that I sat at the bottom of and thought about how he was totally not into me and I had misunderstood his asking out entirely or that he had been into me but something I did made him totally uninterested again and it was my fault and GAME OVER. (Holy run-on sentence Batman.)

I had basically overthought myself into an actual funk, a terrible mood that lasted for two days, and it did not feel nice. So after digging myself out of this hole/funk, and feeling somewhat decently again, I decided to do a Bold Thing.

Said Bold Thing is something that I rarely do with guys I am interested in: initiating conversation first when we have never ever had an actual real conversation before.

Doing this Bold Thing was so intimidating for me, for a couple of reasons.

1. In my mind, he had already rejected me once. I'm talking about when he first gave me his number and I sent him a text after many a deliberation and angsting and he totally blew me off. Yes, in my mind, this is a rejection. Yes, I know it was a relatively small action, but to me it seemed blunt: he'd changed his mind. He had no real interest in getting to know me, and had no interest in talking.
2. Because of my long streak in middle school and high school of never* having any guys that I liked liking me back, I developed a very strong fear of rejection. In developing this strong fear, I basically overcompensated with either never** telling guys I liked that I liked them or avoiding every possible situation of developing serious feelings.

(*with maybe the exception of R*cky B*bby when he moved back in the 11th grade, to be honest, I'm still very iffy on this.)
(**with the exception of Phil, which ended up being mistaken feelings anyway and I will regret it until I'm 97.)

I've talked about this here before. For me, when it comes to guys, avoiding = safe. A guy's too attractive? Avoid at all costs. A guy's showing interest in me? Avoid avoid avoid. A guy's trying to talk to me? Definitely avoid.

Of course that would leave me with no options and a completely dead love life for years, but I liked it that way. Things were simple. Uncomplicated. Safe. Worry-free.

So, in summary: for me, sticking my neck out and actually risking being vulnerable and hurt if Amad rejected me a second time?

It filled me with terror down to my very bones.

It took a few of my anti-anxiety remedies so that I wouldn't have a panic attack, and giving myself a lengthy pep talk...but in the end, I typed out my message to him (Something to the effect of, "Hey. Are we still on for that lunch? I figured if we're gonna meet, we should probably at least talk to eachother? Haha."), swallowed my terror, and sent it.



Internet. You know what happened?

He replied 15 minutes later.

ALL THAT SELF TORTURE, ALL THAT WORRYING. FOR NOTHING. GAH. I'M SUCH AN IDIOT YOU GUYS.

It turns out, that first text I sent him? He never actually got it. And he thought I was ignoring him.

Omg. The entire rejection was completely in my head. All that overanalyzing and mental gymnastics over a misunderstanding. Story of my life.

Amad being interested in me was the very least of my worries, because y'all...he is definitely interested in me. Most definitely.

After the initial lunch-asking-out, he's asked me out 2 more times. One was to hang out at his brother's house (which I of course said no to because it was 10pm and I was in my pajamas and warm bed and was eating Cheez-Its and tbh I wondered for a moment if he was joking), and another was to have dinner at his family's restaurant (which I said no to because I had literally just finished eating dinner with my family, but that I might have to take him up on that sometime, because between you and me his family's restaurant is actually really successful and I've wanted to eat there since before I even knew who Amad was).

Fast forward to now: our city just had a huuuuuuge snowstorm hit, and we're pretty much buried in snow and ice right now, which again makes meeting up for that lunch impossible. But we're both definitely interested in meeting still, so I have a feeling we'll find a way to soon. Which you will hear about if it happens. Gulp.



But like I said: him being interested in me is the least of my worries. Because there's some bad news, which I found out during our first conversation.

Amad is moving out of state. To the west coast. At the end of February, aka in less than a month.

Now first of all, let's get this out of the way, I know what you're thinking. This makes it the 3rd time a guy I'm somewhat interested in is moving halfway across the country.

What is with this? Is it me? Am I just inexplicably, instinctively only drawn to guys who are moving away and I'll probably never see again? Do I just have the worst luck with potential romances in the entire world?

So, yeah. I'm not gonna lie to you guys. When he told me that, my heart sunk. Part disappointment, part relief because to be honest, I had just been waiting for something to be wrong. So now that I knew what was wrong, it took some of the edge off.

I've been thinking about it ever since, even during some of our other conversations, and I have a lot of mixed feelings about it.

Here's the thing, Internet. Amad is very attractive. Very, very attractive. He's smart, socially aware, driven, artistic, loves his family more than anything else, and dresses REALLY well (not to mention his hair is possibly the best hair I have ever seen in my life point blank). And I am more attracted to him than I have been attracted to anybody in a long, long time. Not since R*cky B*bby have I felt this attracted to someone's personality and looks all wrapped up together like this.

I remember just a year ago today that I was thinking I would never be drawn to anyone else like that. But with Amad? I have the same feeling. I haven't met him in person yet, so yes there's a possibility that I'm 100% wrong and it was just an illusion. But I have this need to meet him so badly. So badly. I never want to meet someone right away like this. To be honest, it scares me a little.



The logical part of me knows that this can't end well, in endless different ways. The biggest one being that he's moving 500 miles away in 3 weeks.

Let's think about all the possible outcomes here.

Even if we meet, we could have a terrible first date, one that I would look back on cringing for years. But what if it went extremely well? So what? Would we date casually for 2 more weeks and then he'd peace out and move and we'd never talk again? Would I even be able to do that without getting too attached in the first place?

Considering I never even dated R*cky B*bby, my feelings were 1 sided, and I was miserable for months after he moved, I don't think I could. When I develop feelings for someone, I develop them hard and quick. When I developed feelings for RB, they swept me off of my feet so quickly, I didn't know what had hit me. It was also completely out of my control. So I wouldn't be able to keep myself from developing feelings, and it would all end in my heartbreak.

Say things between us went amazingly, and we decided to have a long distance thing. How well could that possibly turn out? He would be the first boyfriend I've ever had, and I've never had a boyfriend that even lived here. 

How would I be able to handle my first relationship with someone that lived 500 miles away from me, and one that was weeks old to boot? It would be impossible. I would go insane.

His moving to the west coast isn't temporary, either. He's moving there to pursue his dream, acting and filmmaking. He even told me he's been working hard and saving up money for months. This move would likely be permanent, aside from visits home to see his family, who all live here.

And considering my financial situation at this time, I don't foresee me being able to visit him out there. I have friends who live there, and I've never been able to visit them, either. All because of money issues. There would be phone calls, texts, and Skyping--but how long would it take for those to become tedious and not enough for either of us?

All of this would be so unrealistic. It's about a 1000 times more complicated than a relationship would be if he weren't moving and we still lived on the same side of town, i.e. a normal one. And a normal relationship in itself would be complicated enough already (because of work for the both of us, money for me, my social anxiety, my lack of license and car).

Why would I get involved with this and make everything needlessly complicated and painful for myself?

Honestly, I wonder how people even make relationships work at all. To me, they seem like the most complicated thing to achieve. It's no wonder how I've never been in one at age 22. With all of these complications flying around, how would it even be possible for me?

After this much thought, Internet, I'm not sure I should follow through with meeting him.

Honestly, it makes me wish I had met him months and months ago. So that I had gotten enough time to get to know him and hang out with him before he had to move. Because when he moves at the end of this month, it'll be too late.

I keep thinking about our first conversation over text. We were talking about what we wanted to achieve, and who we wanted to be. I told him about my dreams of being a published author (which he was impressed by), and he told me about his dreams of being an accomplished filmmaker.

I asked him how long he'd been interested in filmmaking, and he told me he'd been making his own films for 7 years. I was impressed, and I told him that I bet he'll kick ass once he breaks into the industry.

And he said, "We both will."

Boom. Chills. Everywhere.

I don't know why that's been resonating with me so much. Maybe because so many people that I meet brush off my dreams as if they're simple, or not impressive enough. Or they look down on me, as if they doubt that I'm smart enough to write.

So when someone, even someone that I've never met before, tells me that they believe that I can do it...it gets to me. Goes straight through me to my soul. And I've never talked to a guy that seemed genuinely supportive of my dreams before. Ever.

I shouldn't let that one sentence get to me so much, but it did. And it still is.

Internet, I'm conflicted.

On the one hand, I want to be logical and think things through. I want to protect myself and save myself the trouble and complications.

On the other hand...I'm tired of always walking away from situations that seem too messy, or complicated, or hard. I'm tired of looking back and regretting letting people and opportunities go. I'm tired of regrets, period. This other part of me wants to let go of my fears for once in my life and just go for it, see where the cards fall and go with the flow, consequences be damned.

Amad is someone special, I really feel it. Do I really want to pass this up and take the easy way out just because it might be hard?



Sigh. I always have wanted guys that are unattainable.

In other (better) news: FIRST SITTING JOB. THIS WEEKEND.

Yes, Internet, that's right. This weekend I officially start my career as a dog sitter with my first client, a cute year and a half old black lab named Sally. Yay!!

Her owners are going on a skiing trip. So this weekend will be full of playing with Sally, watching Sally, and juggling Sally and my dog at the same time. Wish me luck!

I'll update soon and let you guys know how it goes. And I'll also offer an update on the Amad situation...sigh.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: amad, job stuff, new stuff going on, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, work

Happy 2016, Internet.

How has your new year been so far? How has accomplishing your resolutions been going?

As for me, the first three weeks of 2016 have been...unexpectedly up and down.

I'll get to the ups in a minute, but as for the downs...well. Sometimes you gotta get some the downs out of the way, regardless of when. I didn't think that would happen the first two weeks of 2016, but there we go.

I have to say, the passing of Alan Rickman really got to me. It probably sounds ridiculous to some people, but he was one of my favorite actors. I may not have known him personally, but he still felt like family, in a way. Outside of his many roles, he was also a wonderful man. Rest in peace, Alan.



Another down: That big trip I briefly mentioned in my resolutions/holiday entry? Yeah. Not happening.

Turns out that the people I was planning to go with can't go anymore, and that basically made it impossible for me to go, even on my own. (Even if I could travel alone without having a mental breakdown, considering I haven't even been out of my own state in 15 years.) So yeah, that was a bummer.
Basically it was a combination of not having enough financially and personal circumstances. My friend felt really guilty about it, but it was partly my fault too.

I was really upset at first. The first day afterwards, I just let myself wallow and have a mental health day.

The next two days after that, though? HOLY MOLY. (Ups, here we come!!)

Literally the day I took a mental health day off, in the middle of the day, the most unexpected thing happened. So unexpected that I jolted up in my seat when it happened.



Internet...I may have a date coming up.

BUT WAIT. LET'S BACK UP. Beep beep beep.

I haven't told you about this guy yet. This is a little roller coastery in itself, so hang on tight.

I matched with this guy on Tinder back at the end of November. Let's call him 'Amad'.

When we first matched, I kinda flipped out, and for a few reasons. One being that he is...very attractive. Dresses well, fantastic hair, super handsome face, and actually knows how to take good selfies. Very important things. But there's one other thing.

He's 19.

Internet, you guys should know. I never go for younger guys. Never never never. (Well, okay, except for Brennan, kinda. He was a year younger than me. And Ricky Bobby, too, I guess. He was a year and a half younger. But those are the only exceptions!!!1) The grand majority of guys that I tend to get into are older than me.

This guy...is not. Not even close.

Can you picture me sweating nervously? Because I am. Profusely.

He's not just younger than me. He's technically still a teenager. And the only reason I swiped right is because I thought there was no way he would ever swipe right on me, due to our age difference and the fact that he is fine as hell and I am NOT.

Also, his family owns a popular chain of restaurants in our city. And he's a filmmaker. Can you spell o-u-t o-f m-y l-e-a-g-u-e? Even though he's younger than me he could quite literally get anyone he wanted. And I tend to avoid guys like that. Usually. Except for this time, when I apparently lost my mind.

At first I wanted to unmatch him and flee as fast as I possibly could. And I actually fully intended to. And then...I forgot. And then I followed him on Instagram, and he followed me back.

Whoops. So much for fleeing.

And as it turns out, I regretted the Instagram follow at first. After he approved me follow request and thereby gave me free reign to snoop, I snooped, snooped hard...and regretted it.

Of course, at first I had enjoyed looking at all of his selfies and clever captions and such. And then it happened--I opened up a picture from about a year and a half ago, and in the caption? A racial slur.

Sickness in the pit of my stomach, I clicked through a few more, heading back further in time. Found another racial slur. And another one. By then, I was thoroughly disgusted. To be honest, I was crushed.

Sometimes Internet, you hope and hope that a person you 'meet' is decent and kind, and then their social media accounts just destroy everything you had hoped in a matter of seconds. Here I was, hoping I had found an awesome guy (albeit young, but if he had a great personality I would definitely overlook his age), and then getting so immensely insulted and disappointed.



Deciding that he wasn't even worth any of my attention anymore, I left his Instagram feed and didn't think about him for another two weeks.

Unfortunately for me that was not the end of things.

After we had passively liked a few of each others' pictures back and forth for a week or so, he finally messaged me on Tinder and gave me his number, telling me to text him sometime.

I promptly freaked out. I hadn't wanted to even think about him again, let alone even actually talk to him. And he wasn't supposed to want to talk to me! That was the (unspoken, completely made up in my head) agreement we had!
I agonized over it all day, then, with a huge amount of trepidation and doubt, decided to text him that evening (several hours after he had given me his number). Kept it simple and straight forward. 'Hey, this is Sarah from Tinder.' Neutral and safe.

I waited. And waited. Waited more. Waited for days.

And....

No answer.

INTERNET. I WAS ENRAGED.

After deciding to give this little creep a second chance and give him the benefit of the doubt after what I had seen him say from a few years ago, which I never do, HE BLEW ME OFF.

AHHHHHHHH.



So I decided that from then on, unless he interacted with me first, he didn't exist to me. So long, fetus boy.

This was maybe two weeks before Christmas, and it worked well for a while, I'll give myself some credit. He would like some of my pictures on Instagram. I wouldn't even offer a thank you like in return, the way I usually did. All he got from me was radio static.

Finally, when he had liked maybe six of my pictures straight without any in return from me, I liked one back, hoping that would pacify him and he would leave me alone. (I realize how ridiculous all this is. Passive aggressive millennial social interaction at its' finest. Bleh,)

Plus I could not figure out for the LIFE of me how he could like several of my pictures and yet not have the decency to reply to 1 simple text message. Are we reaching that point in society now? Is texting going extinct now, too? Or is it just this toolbag? (Toolbag is also what I changed his name to in my phone.)

I continued to passively and sparingly like a picture of his now and then, and meanwhile he liked all of my newest ones. I maintained an air of indifference, even though I couldn't freakin' figure out why he could do all this but not answer a text.

Then it came. The day I was taking a mental health day.

Lo and behold, the Boy Who Did Not Know How to Text slid into my Instagram DMs.

Not only that, but he sent a picture of himself, and a message underneath that said, "You're gorgeous! (heart eyes emoji)"

Yep.

Called me gorgeous. With a heart eyes emoji.

AFTER NOT ANSWERING MY TEXT BEFORE. Which I was positive meant that he had 0% interest in me.

The second this happened, I was sitting on the couch next to my mom. And when I opened it, I nearly shot out of my seat. I had to try very hard to act like nothing had happened and I wasn't inwardly panicking. I had spent all day being sad, and now this was happening.

I took 45 minutes to excuse myself, pull myself together, and finally scrounge up a response.

I answered, "Wow haha, thank you. You're pretty gorgeous yourself (winking emoji)" Looking back, I feel that the winking emoji was too much, but oh well. Can't take it back now, can I? Besides, I have no clue how to flirt, so I at least get points for trying, right?

At one point, I was terrified that he was going to ignore me again and I had stuck my neck out for the third time only to be burned.

But thankfully, some time later, maybe half an hour later, he responded with something I had been expecting even less than the first message. "Let me buy you lunch sometime."

FREAK OUT #2.



Internet...I was having every emotion one person could probably feel at once without spontaneously combusting.

First, I was in disbelief. The fetus was asking me out? How? What? Huh? Why? WHAT?

Second, I was confused. I still hadn't forgotten what I had seen on his Instagram, and it still made me angry. But I tried hard to remember who I was at age 19. I was a very different person than I am now. I've learned a lot about people and the world since then. So why couldn't he, too? If it ever came up again after getting to know him, maybe I could sit him down and explain to him why it was wrong.

Also, I was confused about him being interested in me. Truth be told, this happens everytime someone shows any interest in me, even if I'm not interested in them.

I think it's the part of me inside that might always live in middle school/high school, when no guys outright expressed interest in me at all (except for Phil, but whole other can of worms, ugh) and it made me feel sad and even more insecure than I already was (which was a ton to begin with).

Sometimes I even talk myself out of it. I'll think, no, they're probably not interested in me like that. They probably only want to get in my pants. (That's my most often used excuse.)

But...there it was. If I gave him a real chance, his name wouldn't be Fetus Boy. It wouldn't be Toolbag. His name is Amad. And Amad was asking me out.

I still had the smallest amounts of doubts. But then I remembered how I felt at exactly this time a whole year ago. (See entry how do emotions work, anyway? (scary epiphanies are scary.) and prepare for some intense emotions.) I was miserable with my own regrets of the past. And I had decided that from this year on, I didn't want to have regrets anymore. That I wanted to give things a chance and maybe regret them afterwards but not regret not doing them and never knowing.

So I replied to Amad and said, "Sure, that sounds good. Let me know."



I agreed to a date with a 19 y/o. What did I do, Internet? WHAT DID I DO.

It's been a week since that happened, and considering the casual, non-committal nature of our plans, who knows when they'll actually be solidified and turned into a real first date, IF that even happens. But I said yes, so that's something I'll just have to deal with, I suppose. Wish me luck.

Along with that huge or not huge thing that may-or-may-not be happening, I have one more Up for you: I (possibly) have my first clients as a real honest to goodness dog sitter.

I met them a few days ago, a nice couple with a cute little furry baby. She's excitable, and energetic, but she's cute and friendly. I really REALLY hope this works out, because she would be an absolute joy to watch. And she and my dog get along well, which was a huge relief. (Also, since this was my first meeting with a potential client, my anxiety all day was through the roof. But it went well, so I'm very happy with it either way.)

It's still up in the air so far, but let's hope this all works out for the best!

I'll keep you updated on both fronts Internet. 2016 is off at full speed ahead already.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: amad, job stuff, new stuff going on, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, social media, tinder

present me past me