People are like that, judging you before they know you.

We're better off. But I don't know if the world's better off. I don't know if the two are the same thing.

Dumped doesn't even begin to describe it. If you're going to use a trash metaphor, incinerated is more like it.

I've given him more mixed signals than a dyslexic Morse code operator.

Things change all the time, mostly in little ways.

Tal told me he loved me, and told me and told me, but you don't tell someone that and then tell them they're not experienced enough in bed and should read a book or something to learn, or they should try wearing deep-red lipstick and tight skirts to look hot like their best friend once in a while. If Tal hadn't lied to me when he said he loved me, I might not be without a future right now, a sucker who was so chickenshit she allowed herself to believe a false dream from a false god. I'm not sure I ever even liked Tal, much less loved him.

I want to believe there is a somebody out there for me. I want to believe that I exist to be there for that somebody.