I know what I want.
It's not about love. Really, at all. I'm having fun, he's having fun.
I realized that I want and need someone who has a memory. Who will want to remember details that happened while we were together. Someone who understands when I make references to two years ago and can finish my thought.
I know there are people like this, so I know I'm not crazy. I also know that I would like to be with someone who says "Bless you" (or some form of it) when I sneeze. Is it too much to ask?
It might be right now. But I can wait.
I can travel the world, and continue living my life in hopes of learning and understanding how I can make this place a little better than it was before, and maybe at some point I'll find what I'm looking for.
What I'm trying to sell isn't all the same.
**By the way, I'm about to write something slightly graphic so if you mind. Don't read it.
For God's sake, he didn't even ask if I was alright when I told him it hurt. What the fuck?! At least pretend to care.
And don't try to smooth talk me into doing something I don't want to, it's not going to fucking work. "No" Still means "No". Even worse, I hate pretending like I'm not in pain after you drunkenly attack my clitoris (Granted that's my fault for not slapping you).
I feel better.
I realized that I want and need someone who has a memory. Who will want to remember details that happened while we were together. Someone who understands when I make references to two years ago and can finish my thought.
I know there are people like this, so I know I'm not crazy. I also know that I would like to be with someone who says "Bless you" (or some form of it) when I sneeze. Is it too much to ask?
It might be right now. But I can wait.
I can travel the world, and continue living my life in hopes of learning and understanding how I can make this place a little better than it was before, and maybe at some point I'll find what I'm looking for.
What I'm trying to sell isn't all the same.
**By the way, I'm about to write something slightly graphic so if you mind. Don't read it.
For God's sake, he didn't even ask if I was alright when I told him it hurt. What the fuck?! At least pretend to care.
And don't try to smooth talk me into doing something I don't want to, it's not going to fucking work. "No" Still means "No". Even worse, I hate pretending like I'm not in pain after you drunkenly attack my clitoris (Granted that's my fault for not slapping you).
I feel better.