Loving your family is also about hating your family. The two are inextricably linked. You can see that now. You can’t love a group of people that much without some hate bleeding into it.
I mean, it’s surprising that in 2012 anyone would have some kind of line in the sand about how many pasta dinners a guy has to take you out for before you can take your vagina out of its silk-lined jewelry box and let it participate in the relationship.
Kiss them like it’s going to be hung on someone’s wall someday, as a reminder of what love can be like.
How do you know my brain and my shaken hands and my bones and muscles and my loose skin and I don’t even know my conscious, but you do.