“What are you going to do, then? If you go, I can’t be with you. I love you, Tessa, but I’m not going to Seattle.” “Why? You don’t even know if you’d like it or not. We could at least try it, and if you hate it, we could go to England… maybe,” she says with a sniffle. “You don’t know if you’ll like Seattle either.” I look at her with blank eyes. “I’m sorry, but you have to choose: me or Seattle.”
There's got to be at least one other abusive English guy you could date in Seattle, surely.
