I think about what those parameters would be, what I,
the me without him, would want from a relationship. Someone who makes me laugh until my lungs feel itchy and asthmatic. But not a class clown guy who performs to everyone because I imagine it would be hard to reserve any attention for yourself. Someone who isn’t a writer to prevent all of our conversations from turning into this creative back and forth — I don’t want date night to feel like a seminar. Someone who would be really nice to my friends and love chatting about random stuff with them like Met Gala dresses
and how all people either look like rats or pigs (I swear). Someone probably with a shaved head and probably with a little earring, and probably a fleece also.