I remember that I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do this anymore. No more sleeping around, no more wasting my time with men who aren’t right for me. I promised I would stop pursuing people and things and situations that led to me feeling like shit in the end. I said I would focus on what actually matters—writing, getting another book deal, and finding someone who loves me and who I can love back. Someone good. Someone like Jeremy. The thing is, this is not the first time I’ve said these things to myself, not the first time I’ve given myself an ultimatum. It certainly won’t be the last.
