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Everywhere and everything was terrible and on fire and if you did meet someone you clicked with, you could chalk it up to pure timing and luck.
“I’m fine.” Narrator: He was not fine.
But no one would have ever described her as sweet, kind, and loyal. Because the world had decided long ago what a sweet, kind, and loyal woman looked like, and it wasn’t her.
reply immediately, or decide to reply later and completely forget,
“But trust in relationships is like fragile glass. How can you build on a cracked foundation? How can you be sure you’re getting the truth? You have to protect your own heart. No one else will do it for you.”
“Sometimes, good people make mistakes. It costs you nothing to hear someone out.”
There wasn’t a more optimistic creature in the world than a person who wanted to believe someone hadn’t treated them like shit.
She watched him walk away, trying not to stare too hard at his butt, but what else was one supposed to look at when a hot man was walking away from you? Aw, shit. The truth hit her like a tidal wave. She was going to sleep with him again. Yeah, yeah, she didn’t sleep with the same dude twice, she didn’t fuck with zombies. Her dating rules were going to go out the window with this guy. She could feel it. Gawd, maybe soon he’d send her a dick pic and she’d find it charming, thus cancelling every rule she’d ever made for herself. She shuddered. Let’s not go that far.
Every time you hurt someone, you break off a little piece of them. Not only do they have to live with that broken piece, then the next person who comes along has to figure out a way to spackle that spot. Your behavior has ripple effects.
God give me the confidence of a man who thinks the sight of his dick will lure all the ladies to the yard.”
There was a reason Peter had moved Swype to Manhattan and it wasn’t only because, as Katrina had hypothesized, his soul was too dark for the California sunlight.
SL: How’d you know I sent them? RH: No one else would.
SL: You’ll have to teach me how to selfie too I guess About those nudes . . . RH: I thought you said you wanted my face. SL: I’ll take anything. Wednesday 9:22 p.m. SL: why did you send me a pic of a brown shoe RH: They’re nudes. SL: Unbelievable.
