The realization that I’d just been totally vulnerable with a man who would never reciprocate, even though I’d been naive enough to convince myself he might, hits me like an avalanche. It takes me right out. I compromised my values, my morals—fuck, possibly my career—all because I was horny and hopelessly obsessed with a stranger I met on the internet. The faint taste of bile burns my throat and sours my mouth. I need a drink. Or two. Or ten.
