Tony’s friend was all sharp angles, except for his laugh, which was soft and melodious. I disliked him immediately, which is to say, I liked him but hated the way he made me feel. A year that had passed in a blur, a year in which I hadn’t cried once wondering if he liked me or worrying he wouldn’t call. Tony was all soft edges; round head, round belly, round calves and his emotions oozed out of him. Insecurity, jealousy and adoration bled over everything like the invisible ink they put on paper currency to catch bank robbers.

Source: New York Times January 11, 2019 04:52 UTC