"I felt butterflies with him," I'd told my therapist.
The butterflies kicked in as soon as we hit the sand, and they were in full force when he gave me a very chaste kiss on the lips. My stomach churns and my eyesight seems to get a little cloudy.
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In fact, the guys with whom the butterflies show up seem to be the opposite of prince charming — they tend to be more like the evil fucking troll that lives under a bridge.
I brought up this dilemma with my former therapist a few years back.