Is this what people do when they’re in love? Do they just keep touching and talking? And then what? Like what is it all leading to? I don’t mean sex, I mean . . . If I knew what I meant, it wouldn’t be so frightening. I’m living second by second. All of this with Baz is petrifying. All of this without Baz is intolerable. I’m just making whatever decision I have to make in the moment to keep him in the picture, even though I can’t look at the whole picture without shitting myself. I just told him to come home with me. A few days ago, I broke up with him. I just told him to come home with me,
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