Going to the humane socity "just to look" is like heading into the fudge shop "just to smell." I've managed to do both successfully, but the act left me hollow, a brittle shell of a woman, a wraith desperate to plug her empty heart with M&Ms.
You don't do something of this ilk without knowing, in your bones if not your brain, where you're likely to end up. The justakisses of the world, the onlyonebites and notgonnacheckoutanythings, are, ultimately, disingenuous: we know where we're headed, even if we dislike admitting our ends: boys, donuts, books.
So I can't pretend to be shocked we ended up with this: