mom don't read this one

sorry thanks see you next week

I think that we can all agree that last week’s issue was very sad, so I’m going to try to not be that way this week. Instead of chugging caffeine in a coffee shop, today I am sitting at my kitchen island sipping pumpkin spice rooibos tea with no milk in it because I finished my last batch and did not make more. I need to soak some almonds but my cat is in my lap so I unfortunately just don’t think that’s in the cards for me at this current moment.

This week I decided to write about the topic I was originally going to write about last week before I remembered Halloween and wrote the train-wreck that was last week’s newsletter. So, reaching back to two weeks ago, when I wrote about my habit of intellectualizing my feelings and any feelings I witness anyone else having, I have been wondering a lot about the difference between romantic and platonic love. People love to say that the key to a happy marriage is to marry your best friend, but I feel like there has to be more to it. But also, what else is different other than sex? Is the key to marriage just to fuck your best friend forever?

So actually I turned to the world-renowned expert in all things Google and asked what the difference is, and basically it said just sex, so I don’t really know what I’m going to do with the rest of this newsletter.

But I also found a list that listed some other things and I don’t know that I fully agree with them all, being the love, relationship, and emotion expert that I am. The first point is that platonic love is selfless, and romantic love is not. The only discernable reason they give for romantic love being selfish-ish is that romantic relationships involve sex and everyone wants to cum. I’m so sorry I don’t have the energy or desire to tiptoe around vocabulary and find a more euphemistic way to phrase that. But apparently, that’s what makes romantic relationships self-serving, and since platonic relationships (often) do not include sex, they must be, by default, selfless(?).

I think to call a platonic relationship more selfless than a romantic relationship is honestly quite stupid. My motive behind every friendship I’ve made has been selfish: to not be lonely while I’m at whatever shared space my new friend and I have to both be at. Sorry for ending a sentence with a preposition. I used to care so much about grammar and then I realized that people have gone much farther (further?) than I have, with much worse grammar, so maybe I should remove the stick from my ass. Annnyyyways, the point is that making friendships is inherently selfish (I actually heard this theory once that every single thing a person does has selfish motives at its core — should I write about that some time?) in that having friends reduces the need to be uncomfortably alone, particularly in public spaces. Humans are social creatures (so I’ve been told) and make friends to satisfy the need to socialize. Once the friendships are formed, is it possible to value the other person’s needs over your own? I would argue yes, so I guess I’ll give the list-maker that, but I feel as though a romantic relationship requires even more compromise and allows for even less room for selfishness by definition, especially when sharing a space and a life and a family (not in the incest way).

The list also asserts that platonic love is less complicated than romantic love, and I’m starting to think that the article was written by an alien who has never had a human interaction. People are complicated no matter what the nature of the relationship is. Romantic, platonic, personal, professional, the only way for a relationship to not be complicated is for it to not exist. Half the time, I’m worried that the cashier at the grocery store hates me because I’m bad at small talk. All relationships are complicated and friendships are no exception. Though the next point in the list is that platonic love doesn’t have expectations, whereas romantic love does, so maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. Maybe I expect too much from my friends by assuming that they’ll be interested in what I have to say and want the best for me and never ever have another friend that they like more than me. Maybe I’m wrong to take my friendship bracelets more seriously than my wedding ring.

This actually leads me to the next point on the list that I want to tackle. Apparently, “people in platonic relationships don’t get jealous of other platonic friends.” Okayyyy, try telling that to the girl named Sara who is apparently my new friend’s best friend, whose mere existence has me seething. It’s literally easier to be jealous platonically than it is romantically. The thing about friends is that they almost always have other friends and whether or not those other friends are closer or have been around longer than I have, I am almost always jealous of their friendship with my friend, and maybe that’s why I am famously not good at making friends even though I panicked and told my therapy lady on Monday that I am good at it.

I came here to try to explore the differences between romantic and platonic love and kind of ended up just arguing with a random article that the internet presented to me. Next week, maybe I’ll talk about how unconditional love doesn’t exist. Actually, I’ll do it now. In one of those beautiful moments of synchronicity that the universe sometimes offers us, I decided earlier this year that unconditional love doesn’t and can’t really exist, and then shortly after, found this poem, which has gone on to be one of my favorite poems of all time. I highly recommend clicking the link and reading the whole thing, but the main line that I’m referencing here is “All love is conditional. There are reasons you would turn your back on anybody.” Basically, I think it’s beautiful and profound and if anyone knows the author (Kari Teicher) and wants to set us up, I would be down to platonically love her forever.

Speaking of poems, shall we?

bring me my walker

my whole life right now feels like

getting to the bottom of the page

and having no idea what I

just read I have a million tabs

open in my brain and they’re

all playing audio and I can’t find

the button to close the window

remember when windows were

glass to be looked through and

not a screen to be looked at?

holy cannoli

my couch is my altar I’m

drinking the blood of your savior

from a glass rimmed in gold from 2003

and a night I barely remember

bring me the buttered

body of christ on a platter

my body is a temple

charcuterie is my religion

fever dream

every day I wake up in the same body

and find something new

to hate about it

maybe in my next life

I’ll choose a better vessel

I’m hungry for air and horny for food

I want a psychic to tell me that

something, anything

will be okay

A super fun fact is that I started writing poems during the pandemic and I just actually wrote my two-hundredth poem (bring me my walker) and the pandemic is still not really over in the way that we all thought it would be by now!

So anyway, here are some pics of my week. People love to tell me how much they love my photo dumps whilst ignoring the paragraphs of writing I put actual effort into. Is it embarrassing to admit to putting effort into and/or caring about anything? Yes it is! My pictures this week are basically all from the same three things but they’re fun!

starting off strong with a photo of batman but his sidecar was empty (sad face). also the light-up sign below the license place that looks like “bile” in the picture actually says “my other vehicle is the batmobile,” naturally.

here's another picture of batman because he saw me taking pictures like a creep so he waved

a sign that i can’t help but read with a british accent

chris and i went to the most scenic church in the state to worship our lord and savior jesus christ jk actually just to walk around and admire the architecture and yellow leaves

here’s what the inside looks like if you were wondering. they seemed to be getting ready for a wedding, so we didn’t stay inside long

here is be being a tree amongst the trees. notice how my foot is resting on my thigh and not my knee which is good

i had to take a hilarious selfie of chris and me through the bars for reasons only god herself understands

see? i told you. fuckin’ scenic

the sexual tension between jesus and this little gremlin man (who i think was supposed to be named simon) is so palpable even in stone, and you’re trying to tell me god hates the gays??

speaking of the gays, this picture was taken very shortly after my friend kevin’s car floor was stabbed with a piece of road metal on the way to taco bell

a grainy, poorly lit photo of me wearing not my wig which prompted a chorus of the phrase “berries and cream” being directed towards me

a beautiful and accurate headstone my friend made for me well past my bedtime

at least i made sure to spell her name right

I need to find a good way to end these things. I never know what to say once I get to this point. Have a great week and I’ll see you next Friday, I guess.

lol (lots of love),

serena