mother was obsessed with the idea of love. She was so easily manipulated that nothin’ mattered but finding the right one. Always glidin’ from one guy to the next like a revolvin’ door.” I pause, thinking about that time and all the men she was with. Some tall, some fat, some nice, some… “She never seemed to have a type, hopped on the first one to give her that attention she was seekin’. They’d date, he’d eventually leave, and the cycle would start over again.”
