Single in the 6ix: setting things right

Spinster bookshot

It happens. One minute you’re peachy keen, life is going well. You feel on top; you feel hawt. You’ve got your shit together.

Next minute you’re gasping for air because the loneliness is so palpable you’re choking on its rankness.


In the more eloquent words of Kate Bolick, as taken from her book, Spinster:

This, I thought, is what it means to be alone: You are solid, intact, and then, without warning, a hinge unlatches, the chimney flue swings open, the infinite freezing black night rushes in, and there is nothing to do but grope in the cold to set things right again.


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