“When
people draw hearts, I just have to laugh. Do they actually know what they are
drawing? Hearts don’t look like that. Hearts are clumps of blood and arteries
and circulation and feeling and muscle. When I see a drawn heart, I see an
abstract, pictorial penis and scrotum. Or like a top view of a guy’s butt and he
just happens be have a boner at the same time. But what really gets me are all
the young girls drawing them all over their notebooks or on their skin or
posting the stupid less-than-three’s on the internet. And I just want to be
like, ‘LOOK AT WHAT YOU’RE DRAWING! THAT IS NOT A HEART.’”
“Someday,
Sophie, you need to learn when to keep things you think to yourself. I’ll never
be able to look at a heart in the same way again. They’ve lost their
innocence.”
She
shrugged. “It had to happen someday.”
“What
did?”
“Losing innocence.
Relationships fail, hearts break, people get broken. Life doesn’t let anyone
remain innocent, and that’s the real tragedy.”
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