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I feel it. The need to engage. After the sadness, anger was my constant companion as a kid. And then the anger went away, and there was nothing. I forgot how good it felt. The distraction of my emotions. I like that I don’t like him.
“You know how to ride?” he asks. Horses or . . . ? I just nod, assuming he means horses.
Girl. LMAO.
“If you get a boyfriend, you won’t be able to see him once we’re snowed in anyway. Besides, they’re not your type.” “How do you know?” “Because I’m telling you they’re not your type,” he shoots back. “I will let you know when one is.” What a Neanderthal. For Christ’s sake.
Ew.
“You have a pretty smile, cuz,” he tells me. “If you stay, I’ll make you smile some more.”
EW.
