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“It’s not prickly. I just don’t put up with bullshit. And there’s a lot of bullshit in this world.”
“Hard pass.”
“You’re really something,” he says. It doesn’t sound like an insult, so I accept it as a compliment. Usually people say that to mean that I’m too much—too colorful, too passionate, too smart, too dramatic, too sarcastic. It’s what people say when they don’t know how to categorize me, as if I should just fit into the social box of a woman who wants a picket fence and two kids,
I was going to be full-tilt me, come hell or high water.
stuffy guys
Coincidentally the name of an object in the Dark Tower books
“Living alone for the peace and quiet. Sounds charming. I bet you have stellar houseplants.” “I do. And I bet my plants have better breath than your dog.”
Muggle waters run deep apparently.
Look at us. Matching his-and-hers blushes.
I made you a breakfast blend with coconut oil and a sprinkle of cinnamon.
“Dreams have to match up. Or at least be compatible side by side.”
It’s like trying to read tarot from a normal deck of playing cards—like I’m looking for something that isn’t there.
Matteo is a breath of fresh air in my life I didn’t even know I needed. Something to turn me on my head and give me a fresh perspective.
How can one person affect me so much in a matter of a week?
“In gaming terms, we are going to Leeroy Jenkins the shit out of this bitch,” Latifah yells. “Hold my wig.”
I spent so much time pushing people away because they didn’t fit what I was looking for, and in the end what I needed was someone to bring me out of my prejudices. Open my eyes to the world.
