All clothes I picked out at a store the other week while imagining BJ taking them off my body and I wonder for a few seconds what’s wrong with me? How I can have gotten dressed thinking about BJ’s breath dragging across my skin and then get in the car and run straight into Julian’s arms? Something’s wrong with me, I know there is, and I can barely get the sentence written down onto the page of my mind before the answer presents itself. I love him too much. That’s the problem. That’s the only problem I’ve ever had, really. The only reason I’m sad how I am, the only reason I’ve been hurt how I
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