Oh, Becca. I know how awful a thing it is to say that I know how you feel, but at least in part, this is true. For me, love or at least partiality, is ruled by disappointment. If young men I know never fancy me, I'm disappointed in them for being closed minded. If they do fancy me, I'm disappointed in them for being typical (as well as having terrible taste). If I end up liking someone I'm disappointed in myself because none of them are the right one. With the possible exception of Adrien Brody.
I wish you and I could buy a house together, on some distant and lush island, where we'd wear enormous floppy straw hats and inspire each other all day, and love would be a spell that we could cast on ourselves and still be surprised at the way it came true.
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I wish you and I could buy a house together, on some distant and lush island, where we'd wear enormous floppy straw hats and inspire each other all day, and love would be a spell that we could cast on ourselves and still be surprised at the way it came true.
Hang in, sweet pea.
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