There’s a specific kind of limbo that lives in the space between a “good morning” text and an actual title. It doesn’t show up on any form. There’s no box for it on your Instagram bio, no word for it when your mom asks who keeps making your phone light up at midnight. And yet, somehow, half the people I know are living there full-time.
It hit me last week, sitting on my bedroom floor at 1 a.m. while my best friend read me the same three texts for the fourth time, trying to decode them like ancient scripture…