Please Stop Telling Me Everything Happens For A Reason

By Ari Eastman

I remember the first time. A blonde girl who sat behind me in Spanish sent a text meant with good intentions. We were friends, but not great. Most of the time I was jealous that her boobs were so big and her waist so impossibly small. That and the fact that my crush, Dan, looked at her more than he ever looked at me. You know, stupid shit an adolescent…

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Thought Catalog

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We’re a community of creators based in NYC. We publish a digital magazine and limited edition books. thoughtcatalog.com // shopcatalog.com

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