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I snuggle into him, steal his warmth. That’s all he is to me, body heat.
I’d rather you girls open your legs before you ever open your hearts, she said once, half a bottle deep. I was too young to understand then. So many things.
I wonder if love can be ugly. If it can do the wrong thing. Bad things. I wonder if it can ever really die.
“I’m not Leda,” I say. “I’m not repressed; I’m genuinely unemotional.”
Men are never selfish. They’re smart. Women are always selfish. You want to be single? Selfish. You’re a wife and mother and do anything other than dote on your husband and children? Selfish. I want you and your sisters to learn to take that word as a compliment. Anyone who says that to you is trying to discourage you from doing what you want. That’s how you know you’re doing something right.












































