I plunged into him, kissing him like I was flame and he was wood, our tongues igniting.
Unfortunately, I am only myself.
If bitching were karate, my mother would be a black belt.
If snowflakes are like people, how is anyone lucky enough to find anyone in this world.
Maybe we were too broken to put back together. Maybe we’d been too broken to ever put together in the first place.
He was glad she thought it was his ego that had kept his face on his phone and not his heart.