“I officially have a crush on Meyer,” I admit. “Like, a harmless, ‘ha-ha’ silly little flirtatious crush, like you’ve always had?” I turn to her. “Like a heated, vividly-pictured-him-naked, sharp-longing-from-my-vaginal-soul crush. Throat-thickening desire and pining. Distracting, life-altering. I’ve kept it under control, but then he sends me to one therapy session and I’m suddenly a little too in touch with my feelings if you know what I mean.”
