And if we continue down the “right swipe” and “you up?” path, I’m afraid our love stories may soon be slotted on the endangered-species list, sandwiched right between the Amur leopard and the black rhinoceros. Rather, we “hang out,” which is exactly what it feels like-clinging to something that’s difficult to grasp. We don’t possess these epic love stories, nor do we date or, god forbid, court. My generation does many things well, but romance isn’t one of them. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer, maybe it’s because I’m a romantic, maybe it’s simply that I’m a sucker for a good story, but I’m envious of older folks’ “how we met” tales. ADELAIDE Independent Monthly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Mensal, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition
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