Molly? Molly moved on too. She had to. Some friends are only meant to visit for a season.
Not everything has to be a beginning or an ending. Sometimes it’s just a second time. And that’s enough. It’s 2025 now as I write this. Caylin and I don’t talk anymore — not because of anything bad, just because life has a way of pulling people apart like taffy until they snap.
The first time with Caylin and Molly — back in 2015 — was chaos. Too much emotion. Too little sleep. Too many promises made at 2 a.m. that turned into awkward silences by noon. Caylin Me And Molly For The Second Time -2017 g...
“Same time next year?” she joked.
Permission to laugh too loud. Permission to admit that the last two years had been lonely even when they looked happy on Instagram. Permission to sit too close to Caylin on the couch without making it weird. Some friends are only meant to visit for a season
The first time was two years before — messy, electric, and over before anyone could say what it was. This time? This time we had Molly. Molly wasn’t a person, not really. Molly was the excuse. The bridge. The third presence in the room that made everything feel okay to say.
First times are accidents. First times are adrenaline. But second times? Second times are choices. You know exactly what you’re walking into — or at least you think you do. Caylin’s apartment hadn’t changed much. Same mismatched thrift-store couch. Same string lights that never got taken down from last winter. Same half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey on the kitchen counter. And that’s enough
“Don’t make me wait that long,” I said.