He said, "You're in love with me." And I replied, "You're projecting."

I wanted to want the kind of love that is all dinners and movies and walks in the park.  But I couldn’t.  Or I just didn’t.  It was so normal, it made me crazy.  But with him...  I liked the way he was broken.  I loved the way he could break my heart.  It made me feel safe.  I liked his crooked smile and the way he always kept a pack of cigarettes in his pocket.  I liked that I didn’t have to tell him anything because he already understood.  And I liked the way he gave me shit.  I liked being over my head in something.