When men look at me, sometimes their eyes linger. My hips are wide, my stomach is at, my breasts are average and perky. I look at my body in the mirror, covering both breasts with my hands.įrom the outside, I look healthy. My eyes are red from the grief but my makeup is in place, my hair has been pulled back, my clothes are folded neatly on the counter. I slide the lipstick over my bottom lip and then my top.

This new place is me, naked, in front of the bathroom mirror.

I get so lost that by the time I climb my way out of the dark, I’m in a new place. One second I’m in the shower, the next second I’m not. It’s easier to convince myself I’m not crying that hard when most of what’s falling down my cheeks is water. The stream of water dilutes my tears and it makes me feel less pathetic. I’m standing at against the shower wall, allowing the spray of the shower to fall over my face. It’s happened every month since I was twelve. When I woke up this morning, I incorrectly assumed it would be a quick, painless shower day. I’ve been in the shower for half an hour now. It doesn’t make sense that I grieve so much for those who never even existed. I feel weak for needing to grieve since no one has died. But I take such long showers because it’s the only time I allow myself to grieve. I’m sure I said they were relaxing, or that the hot water was good for my skin.

Graham once asked me why I take such long showers. I don’t want to need closure or even an explanation, but I’m scared I’ll need both of those things when I’m alone tonight. I just want to walk away and be done with him. And even though I know it’s over, I don’t want to confront him. I met Ethan right after I started college and we’ve been together four years now. The bad part is that I do know how to change a tire. A lot of guys don’t know how to change a tire.” “I know. We’ve had two ats since we’ve been together and he had to call a tow truck both times.” Graham shakes his head a little and says, “I’m not looking for reasons to excuse the bastard, but that’s not so bad. “Ethan doesn’t know how to change a tire. He looks like the kind of guy who reads novels and cleans his apartment twice a day and folds his socks and then tops o all that perfection with a morning run. She was buying extra letters at ve dollars a pop just so she could beat me.” I try to picture this guy playing games on his laptop at night, but it’s hard. “It used to impress me until I saw an eight-hundred-dollar charge for the game on her bank statement.Īll Your Perfects PDF Book by Colleen Hoover Name of Book Every damn night.” He stretches his legs out. I’m the one who introduced Sasha to the game, but she would always beat my score. “We used to play this word game on our laptops at night,” he says. Click here to Download All Your Perfects PDF Book by Colleen Hoover Language English having PDF Size 2 MB and No of Pages 240.

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