When it’s 4:17 in the morning and you think you are in love:
1. Are you certain? Have you ever, in your uneventful nineteen years, been sure of anything? You want to reach into your skull and retrieve the piece of your brain that is doubting you but your nails are be bitten down to the skin and you hate it.
2. You might hate him. You definitely hate the colour of his eyes, but your sister calls you a compulsive liar and she has never done you wrong.
3. For god’s sake, quit staring at his eyes, his mouth—listen to him breathe instead and decide whether or not you like the rhythm. All you know are knocking knees beneath the tabletop and smiles that make water prick at the edges of your eyes and—have you completely lost it?
4. Remember, your mother told you not to kiss boys with broken lips and long eyelashes. They’ll only break your heart, leave you dusty and ruined and full and empty at the same time.
5. This boy will have the most broken lips your wide wide eyes have ever seen and you’ll be afraid of watching them bleed—of smelling the alcohol-tainted iron this early in the morning, of the consequences that arise from kissing people with crooked jaws and aching knuckles. You’ll wonder if his blood tastes any different from yours. Remind yourself that this is an utterly ridiculous question.
6. It’s okay to kiss him. It’s also okay to decide that you’d never like for it happen again.
7. (If his blood tastes like stardust you will want to fit him between your ribs and vertebrae and elbows. Please don’t do this.)
8. You can be in love if you want—if it makes you happy. You can pour your heart and soul into the rough palms of this stranger on your mattress and prove your mother wrong. It’s okay to be unapologetic, you know.
9. You have spent nineteen years picking dandelions from your wrists and handing them to careless hearts. It’s alright to be a little selfish once in a while.
