Is Love Trending?

"Go ahead, snoop around."

My dad wasn't home, so my mom let herself in. I came downstairs to find her harmlessly snooping through his cupboards. I couldn't help but laugh and ask what she might be getting into. She answered, with no trace of compunction, "I just want to see what's going on in here." 

I took a beat to admire how inextricably human this was—that no matter how evolved we are, parts of us will forever be powerless against the curiosities around the people we've kissed. 

Our actions reflect as much in varying degrees of risk. 

Example A) Stalking a crush's Instagram to the danger zone.  

(You know, when you're deep-scrolling and accidentally double-tap a bikini photo from 2016—leaving you with no choice but to move back to your hometown, get a job at Circuit City, and live with your parents for six months.)

Example B) Assuming the identity of a pretentious barista at Go Get Em Tiger for a summer just to learn how she takes her coffee—leaving you with nothing but a pesky caffeine addiction and the uncontrollable urge to discuss the varying ratios of air presence in whisked milk while in social situations. 

The mom in the kitchen moment hit me because lately, I've been acutely sensitive to love's mutating fashions—take 'Budding Potential' a la Dries Van Noten or Valentino's 'All-consuming Present.' Then there is winter's 'Harrowing Past' courtesy of Comme de Garçons--not to be outshined by Rejina Pyo's surrender to healing earth tones in fall's 'Gentle Reflection.' No matter how ephemeral the fad, love spins us about somehow. And in moments not spent spiraling, I appreciate that.  

You see, the part of my brain that blackens the page for the likes of this medium is the same part that either fantasizes rom-com endings or cultivates absolute panic. Love, man—it's a lot. 

So, in the case of Example C, an ex-wife snooping through the kitchen drawers of a man with whom the number of children she shares is equal to the number of decades she's been divorced (3), I wanted to take a moment to appreciate that sometimes it (love in its many iterations) can be very fucking cute.  

---

Photo by Drew Eggers of me pretending to know how to read. The book was titled When I Say No, I Feel Guilty.

PS My mom would probably want me to mention she is happily married to my amazing stepdad Mike. My parents have been a shining example of divorce! Perhaps why I’ve felt even more comfortable being friends with my exes than being in a relationship?? That topic deserves its own substack post, though. Or perhaps its own book.