She worried that she wasn’t much of a chase. I mean why would this generation want someone who actually wanted them back. Her generation was full of half-hearted relationships. No one bothered with changing their status on Facebook. Some would argue that it’s because the generation is drifting away from being a relationship on a screen and becoming a generation that “baths in the love of another one’s presence”. Well that’s exactly how she felt. The one, alone, sitting at home on a Friday night thinking to herself. Her generation hadn’t drifted away from being just another relationship on a screen. They were the epitome of relationships on a screen. Their bodies were on display in that little screen. Some people were fortunate enough to escape that little screen, but others, like her, had yet to experience something like that. She feared if she ever would because the question again came to her: “Why would someone today want me to want them back?” The chase is popular and she knew that. She even enjoyed a chase every-now-and-then, but she was tired. She didn’t feel like playing games anymore. She didn’t really want to go out on Friday nights and hook-up with multiple guys. She didn’t want to slip off from a bonfire for her friends to go party at some boy’s house who had shown her some attention. She didn’t want to get drunk or high like every other teenager she knew. She was curious to certain aspects of the generation, but not in the way everyone was accepting. She was curious about actual relationship. The ones off screen, real human connection. She wanted a relationship. If that was too much, then something she could put her trust in. She wanted something reliable. Something she could be totally herself in. She didn’t want to feel insecure anymore. She didn’t want to hurt. She felt a need in her for something greater than this generation’s hook-ups and break-ups. She was sick of looking in the mirror and questioning if someone for her was really out there or if she would be stuck in this “close-minded” generation. Someone she could confide in. Someone who wouldn’t push her to drink and get in bed with them, but read a book, maybe, or write a letter to a long lost friend. Maybe that person would encourage her to sit on the grass and breath in. Watch the stars. Tell her parents she loved them. Write a poem. Make a video for her future children. Send little gifts to people she hadn’t seen in awhile. Maybe he would encourage her to be herself, to slide past the insecurities that life forced on her because he knew that her insecurities were just figures of her imagination, but he also knew she needed someone to show her that. She needed that person to show her the importance of a “Sunday stroll”. She needed that person that would inspire her. Question her. Experience her. The raw her, not the well-dressed, pretty-faced her that the generation had painted her to be. She needed someone to take those labels and paint new ones. She needed someone to just be there. Not in that tiny, brightly-lit screen sitting next to her. Not in some party, stumbling around. Not making out with a random girl at his friend’s house. She needed someone to really be there.

That is why her insecurities were so incredible. She had no reason to be insecure, but she was. It’s Friday night and she is sitting at home, alone. She can hear the party raging next door. Her phone is vibrating on the floor next to her. Again the question comes to her: “Why would someone from this generation want someone who would want them back?”