Listen for the Lie

by Amy Tintera

I need to tell my feelings to chocolate.

Telemarketers and Grandma—the only people who use the phone in the way it was originally intended.

We might all be dead soon, but that seems like too much to hope for.

Men are such babies. They’re too scared to actually break up with you, so they just get mean or fade away until you get mad and dump them.

An insult doesn’t have the intended impact when spelled incorrectly. I’d reply to let them know, but, in my experience, dumbasses don’t appreciate having their spelling corrected.

sometimes you meet a girl who is just, like, your soulmate. Not in a romantic way, but in a friend way.

“All right. It’s your funeral.” “I’ve never understood that saying and I’d prefer that you not explain it to me.”

“You look like the fun kind of mess.”

“I should have controlled my temper,” I said softly. I should have just cried. Taken the hits and crawled away to show my scars. I should have been a better victim. The truth doesn’t matter if you fight back.

Men don’t protect us, not really. They only protect themselves, or each other. The only thing men ever protected me from was happiness.”

People don’t believe women who fight back. When a man lashes out, people say he’s lost control of his temper or made a terrible mistake. When a woman does it, she’s a psychopath.

I try to keep my expression neutral. I’ve forgotten how to have a face.