Tracy Smith: Through Men Like Kleenex

I was going through men like they were freakin’ Kleenex. I was like, ‘Woohoo! You’re too tall and you can’t dance and I don’t like the pleats in your pants. La la la la la la la.’ The next thing you know — you’re 30 years old, and your Kleenex is empty, and you are digging through the trash for the wad you haven’t used up yet. Where’s the guy who liked me too much? Where’s the one who was too nice? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!