Love Story Weekly: Guest Thalia on Philia [1]

LSW01First A Little Introduction from Holden…

One of my secret projects as of late is to get some new voices into SF Love Story, and we all know that guest blogging is the coolest way to do that. Hence, I introduce to you the first installment of Love Story Weekly. It’s a little series of takes on the four types of Greek love: agape, eros, philia, and storgē.

If you’re interested in submitting a guest blog (prose, photo, poem, article-thingamajig), you can do so here.

I’m pretty damn stoked on the lineup for the next few weeks…and I’m sure some of you, lovely readers, will recognize some of the writers and artists.

Our first guest post is from none other than the lovely and amazing (and aptly Greek) Thalia. Her tribute to philia

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Here’s To


…sitting crosslegged in dolores park searching the tree tops for fourth of july fireworks —  that we never end up seeing —  in our black and red hoodies and green and plaid scarves —  warming my cold hands in yours —  doubled over in the fetal position, stricken sore and contorted from the laughter we share at nobody else’s expense.

…walking the streets of new orleans at three a.m. —  humid and sticky —  hair plastered to my face, in an atmosphere so wet you can touch it; i didn’t know air was equipped for texture until you took my hand and showed me. crumbling our beignets and spilling our iced coffee, standing on rocks next to the mississippi river, a train in the distance that never comes, our voices becoming song and forever marking a territory in my memory.

…conversations of heartache and pain and love and faith while we sit in my car, tears streaming down our faces, as we refuse to give up our dreams and make the decision to always believe. never noticing the people walking by, it is just you and me and we are fearless. all the hope in a world that is just begging for the love we are capable of —  and we are right there.

…the best east vs. west bay marathon this summer could write —  no pens or parchment paper necessary — don’t meet me halfway, i’ll come to you and find your smile amidst the crowds of coffee drinking laptop loving bianchi riding mission kids. and we’ll compose our own stories and when i sleep at night i am content with the knowledge that your friendship exists.

…toronto hitting oakland by storm; orange county banging on my door at 3am ready for the best three day campout that has ever been camped; japan coming in for a hug and a cry; my bff in san dizzle working her magic in the courtrooms, i see her sparkling smile and taste her sweet laugh on my tongue and it melts like a snowflake and i swallow her whole; israel/ny/philly —  i see you watching me —  waiting for you to run in to my open arms —  i’ll beg you on bruised knees to please tell me tales of falling in love and healing hearts and i will look in your eyes and know that someday…

…the best motherfuckin buddies.


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