Reader’s note: Is it weird that this story makes me more hopeful than depressed?
I developed a crush on Dinah in Los Angeles. She’s my type- dark, busty, funny, strange. We hung out, we went to party where I folded my arms around her waist and tried to kiss her. She wasn’t interested, but she didn’t push me away.
A week later I asked her out for dinner and drinks. She said…