You ever get in a Mood where you just wanna poof off to another country, erase your history, re-write your identity, and become a mysterious figure who’s never been photographed but occasionally appears in paintings done by unknown artists
me: this whole concept of ~soulmates~ is so damaging, you can be happy with so many people throughout your life and sometimes the best you can do in a failed relationship is to let it go, that person isn’t THE ONE, no one is, everything in the media about romance is so fucked up on so many levels–
partner: what about we roleplay tonight ;))
me: alright. the year is 1832, in france. i’m the leader of a student revolution. you’re a drunk artist. we have desperate sex because we are so very afraid of dying. and then we die, holding hands. beautiful.
I would date an actor just so I can tell people that my boyfriend’s an actor and then they’d be like “oh? What’s he been in?” And I’d say “me” and raise my wine glass and laugh because in this scenario I’m at a fancy cocktail party.