I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. Perhaps if I repeated it enough times in my head, it would suddenly become true. I tried to focus on all the bad t...ings about the man who had robbed me of my sense for the past two weeks. He was overbearing, overconfident, and completely unnerving. How could I even consider being with someone like that, someone who was wholly able to reduce me to an illogical, quivering mess? I ached. I didn’t hate Tripp. What I did hate was being a slave to my emotions,. . wait, what do you mean?- You know what I mean - Why should I? At the very beginning Tom was afraid that all this would've evolved into some sort of mutual rejection. It felt strange. And intensely weird. And then some of that weirdness have found its way to become something else. Tom knew that mom knew... She knew that this whole situation could get awkward very easily. But the more days passed by, the less it was an actual, an urgent thing, the more it was just a thing to keep somewhere in. More

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