I’m 31 now. I think I’m beginning to understand what life is, what romance is, and what a relationship means.
Are you kidding? I’m a terrible cook, but John is a really great one. Literally, I never cook. The whole time we were dating, I prepared two officially romantic meals. Both of them were such disasters that he begs me never to go into the kitchen again.
Thank God I never got in a fight. All of the jock dudes hated me, but all of their girlfriends thought I was nice so they wouldn’t touch me. It was infuriating to them.