Sonnet Phelps

The pandemic is reminding us that it’s ultimately our own job to get along with ourselves.

This has been an unconventional mechanism, perhaps, for two friends to learn to navigate each other’s flaws.

Berkeley opened into permissiveness. It was a place where I could bring all of me, wherever I went.

We’ve both had times when a car ride has been a catalyst for connection or an important milestone in a relationship.

Exclusion is an old, deep feeling, born back in middle school when friends would plan sleepovers in front of me.

When you first get to college, the process of picking a major is a little bit like dating.

We toss these phrases around a lot in our relationships. We expect them, in pivotal moments, to transform our relationships.

In the name of love, I’ve made it a habit to sweep my crumbs dutifully into the sink.

Music is a vessel to hold our experiences, our many selves. It gives us words (and a drumbeat) for every moment of euphoria and every strain of heartbreak.

This is one of love’s implicit agreements: I won’t — or can’t — hide, but whatever you see, you won’t look away. And vice versa.