ivegotbigbigplans
Tomorrow's going to be good.
I think.
Whatever.
Imsickofthiscrap.
Sometimes it was the argument itself that was exciting. When all it took was a minor disagreement to get them going, [she] always knew they were in for a good one. They'd taunt each other, teasing all the tender spots with cheap shots and insults. And before they knew it, they'd be locked together in conflict, whipping each other up into a crescendo of passion and anger, reaching desperately for that wonderful release of invective before they collapsed, exhausted into tears. There was something primeval about it when they argued like that. Confrontation was their foreplay, apologies their postcoital caresses. And afterwards they'd feel closer and more tender towards each other than ever before.
&&.
I think.
Whatever.
Imsickofthiscrap.
Sometimes it was the argument itself that was exciting. When all it took was a minor disagreement to get them going, [she] always knew they were in for a good one. They'd taunt each other, teasing all the tender spots with cheap shots and insults. And before they knew it, they'd be locked together in conflict, whipping each other up into a crescendo of passion and anger, reaching desperately for that wonderful release of invective before they collapsed, exhausted into tears. There was something primeval about it when they argued like that. Confrontation was their foreplay, apologies their postcoital caresses. And afterwards they'd feel closer and more tender towards each other than ever before.
&&.