I Don't Know Why I'm Saying Any

Tal Told Me He Loved Me, And Told Me And Told Me, But You Don't Tell Someone That And Then Tell Them They're Not Experienced Enough In Bed And Should Read A Book Or Something To Learn, Or They Should Try Wearing Deep-red Lipstick And Tight Skirts To Look Hot Like Their Best Friend Once In A While. If Tal Hadn't Lied To Me When He Said He Loved Me, I Might Not Be Without A Future Right Now, A Sucker Who Was So Chickenshit She Allowed Herself To Believe A False Dream From A False God. I'm Not Sure I Ever Even Liked Tal, Much Less Loved Him.

I'm Thinking I Would Like To Dance In The Rain With This Person. I Would Like To Lie Next To Him In The Dark And Watch Him Breathe And Watch Him Sleep And Wonder What He's Dreaming About And Not Get An Inferiority Complex If The Dreams Aren't About Me.

When In Doubt, Ingest Carbs.

It Broke The Spell. It's Not That I Stopped Being Happy. I Was Still Inexplicably, Utterly Happy. But Suddenly The Happiness Had Implications.

This Must Be Part Of Mother Nature's Master Plan—making These Boys So Irresistibly Cute, In Such A Naughty Way, That The Purity Of Their Intentions Becomes Irrelevant.