Ben is probably in his grumpy AF Ben head, pondering what his next steps in his quest to keep me safe will be. But thinking about Ben and how this is all done—for real this time— has me contemplating this. Because the truth of the matter is, although I’ve been falling for Ben, we’re still always at each other's throats. I can’t go ten minutes without making him pissed at me, and every moment seems to be an opportunity for us to argue. Nothing about us is compatible. The pink, sugar and spice, Taylor Swift-singing baker and the pissy, broody, beautifully creative tattoo artist. We don’t work.
