It just hit me that I’m really, truly scared of what’s coming up ahead.
The basic premise behind love languages is that while everyone appreciates love in each of its forms, each person has one love language that’s most dominant. So you can love your partner to death and spoil them with a gift a day, but if their love language is physical touch, just they won’t feel loved.
So I ask her: lovey, tell me about blue.
“Blue,” she says, the word slowly stretching between us, and I can hardly breathe. “Blue is raindrops. Not thunderstorms, but the normal rain that comes like tears. Blue is oceans, the deep smell of salt and fish and magic. And blue is winter, I suppose, cold, when you can’t feel your toes because the snow has gone into your wellies. That’s why blue feels sad.”
Every day should be Thanksgiving. Why is the fourth Thursday in November any different?
We know that Trump is racist and sexist and homophobic, not to mention unqualified. We know that Hillary is a liar and could very well be indicted. And no matter who wins the election, that consciousness is still a part of our mental fabric. Our voices demanding someone better weren’t heard. This election is one of reaction, instead of action. And that will always hurt.
Women are breaking barriers in sports. Good news to be spread to all. I mean, I’m as happy as the next girl about all of the above, really. It’s important and it’s about time women in sports was normalized. But here’s the catch: it isn’t normalized. Not really.