Romanticize Yourself: Loving Love Is the Bravest Thing You’ll Ever Do
“I appreciate an imaginable lukewarm romance. But I want the kind that makes your breath hitch and your thighs clench. The scene where the enemies-to-lovers couple finally caves, and the camera captures every trembling inhale, every inch closed, until suddenly they’re pressed against a wall and you’re half-screaming at the TV like it’s the SUPER BOWL.”
Entry Nine: Big Dick Energy, Small Dick Results: The Disastrous Shit-Show of Dating in Your 40s
“I THEN DROPPED A DEAR TRAVEL GOAL—VISITING GERMANY. I WENT OFF ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE STUDYING WWII HISTORY AND HOW FASICNATED I AM BY THAT TIME PERIOD. I TOLD HIM I WANTED TO SEE THE CONCENTRATION CAMPS, WALK THE BEACHES OF NORMANDY, AND JUST DO ALL THE THINGS—TAKE IT ALL IN, EVERY GUT-WRENCHING, HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT PART OF IT.
ONLY TO REMEMBER, A LITTLE TOO-FUCKING-LATE—THAT THE MAN IS JEWISH...”
