Love And Hope And Sex And Dreams: Romantic Advice is Futile, And That’s Okay
My friends and I date, fuck and Snapchat sext with a lot of really groan-inducing people. It’s not that our taste is bad (although sometimes it is), but more that we’re all only working with who’s available to us, and so are the people we’re dating. More often than not, those unions are brief and fraught, with their messy, jagged endings drawn out indefinitely by social media entanglement, the crushing awfulness of dating in New York City and good ol’ fashioned boredom or loneliness. We all spend a lot of time talking through the microscopic details of these interactions with our friends, and we all give and receive a lot of advice. We also all eventually regret giving or receiving much of that advice.