I don’t say the things I’m thinking: how I’m always worried I’m too much. Too over the top, like women in the past have called me. That the therapy I’ve been doing since my mom’s death is working, but I still feel like I’m this ball of emotion who loves people too fiercely, who cares too deeply, who wonders if my brain might be hardwired wrong. Too soft for an athlete, an ex called me. You’re mature, but I want someone who’s a little wilder, another said. Maybe I am losing hope. Maybe every day I become less of a romantic. Maybe not everyone finds that great love, and I’m one of the unlucky
...more
and i know you...
