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When you add some in, it means you have more layers to digest. You get a taste of things you were missing before. But if you add too many, life can become unpalatable.
Time crawls. With bent knees and flat palms, it skulks forward with a painful, pitiful drag, scraping at my nerves as it goes.
“Love happens in all kinds of ways. Fast. Slow. In bits and pieces, or immediate. Filled with lust, one-sided longing, a snap realization never noticed before. Deeply. Thoroughly. Love is a whisper we didn’t hear or a sound that drums in our ears and drowns out everything else.”
Love.
Imagine what women could do if we started being loyal to each other?
