First-Time Caller (Heartstrings, #1)

by B.K. Borison

If my parents are the picture of joy, then I am the portrait of existential dread.

There are few problems that can’t be solved with fudge.

I’m allowed to want soft, special things.

I wonder what it’s like to walk around with your heart on your sleeve. Mine is buried so deep in my chest I’m not sure I could find it if I wanted to.

If you had told me a month ago that I’d be sitting in the corner of a broadcast booth after a failed date where a man tried to humiliate me because of my romantic notions while the father of my child attempts to find me a new date, I probably would have given you a polite smile and then pointed you in the direction of the nearest MinuteClinic.

Underwhelmed and dissatisfied. Print it on my tombstone.

I think of the light, glowy feeling I get every time I slip into the booth. How I always seem to be looking for him. The thrill I get every time I tease him about his unofficial uniform of sweatshirts and dark denim, or his Post-it Notes, or his horrific taste in music. He played Hoobastank twice. I refuse to believe that was a mistake.

I notice he puts the forks prong-side up, the way god intended.

I’ve said plenty of stupid shit on the air, and no one has ever threatened to shut my mouth for me.

because she's a woman

“I don’t concern myself with the fragile egos of men.”

One of the best parts of this show and the decision to put myself out there is discovering I’m not alone in my loneliness.

“I want to feel it first and think about it second. I want to be in the moment and not worry about what’s coming next. I don’t want to twist myself into circles over the idea of a partner.”

I’m not used to letting myself feel things. I’m not sure I like it.

Isn’t that how it goes? The most precious, delicate things wedge themselves between the plans you’ve made for yourself. They wiggle in your arms and wrap their tiny fingers around your thumb after nine months of bone-deep panic.

I thought we were on the same page, but apparently we aren’t even in the same library.

“I think you tell yourself you don’t deserve the things you want so it’s easier for you to manage your expectations. It won’t hurt if you don’t care, right?