I didn't want to leave things the way we had, unresolved, ... and tried to tell myself he cared about me enough not to look elsewhere for what I wasn't giving him.

I don't know," I said. "Maybe you're right, and all that stuff I think I missed is overrated. Why should I even bother? What's the point really?" He thought for a moment. "Who says there has to be a point?" he asked. "Or a reason. Maybe it's just something you have to do." He moved down to start bagging while I just stood there, letting this sink in. Just something you have to do. No excuse or rationale necessary. I kind of like that.

What you need, what you deserve, is a guy who adores you for what you are. Who doesn't see you as a project, but a prize. you know?

I trailed off and he didn't push me to finish. I was finding that I liked that.

I mean, to me, freaking out is different. More of a running away, not telling anyone what's wrong, slowly simmering until you burst kind of thing.

Stop it. Seriously. This isn't funny.' 'You're right.' A pause. 'It's pathetic.

All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough by to shoulder the rest.