I never, ever share myself like that with anyone, and there I was, shoveling my past from the grave and tossing it at his feet, burying him in it. No wonder I don’t go out. There’s a reason I’m only with fictional men. I can delete the words on the page. I can’t delete my mouth. No. Who am I kidding? I might not share myself that often, but I certainly won’t delete my words. I’m not ashamed to be me. I just want to meet a man who isn’t the kind of man my mother raised me to be cautious of, and what the men of my past led me to accept as normal. I want a man who is honest and sweet. Someone who
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