by Sydney Franklin

On being presumptuous:

"So I just had a flash-forward: We're 27 (me 26 technically, but you know the deal) at some swanky as hell affair, still in NYC. The city has treated us well, despite the harsh winters, and we've both blossomed in looks. We pause for a photo, you with your smirk and me with my slight smile, like we've done a thousand times before. Single or not, we walk around confident, past the need to act like we own the place because, well, we do." – J. Rbts