• I know what that stuff do, Mister Goody Two Shoes

    by  • August 14, 2013 • * Safe for Work *, Addiction • 2 Comments

    I don’t care what you say. We’re engaged. I asked, you said yes. What changed since then? Not a damn thing that I can think of. Oh except moving the one big road block that was standing in our way (rather ineffectively). You want to break up with me, go for it. Actually don’t. You’re mine. I’m yours. Period. Paragraph. I will carve my name into your forehead if you need help remembering that.


    I see what you did.

    It’s in there so deep it’ll never come out.

    Or did I do that?

    Did I trick you into tricking me or did you trick me into tricking you into tricking me?

    I love you, crazy person. I love you like a junkie loves heroine. I love you like a fat kid loves cake. Which as it would turn out is a whole fucking lot. Infinity billion.

    Let’s run away together. Or run toward together. Or stay in one place spinning in a circle. I don’t really care as long as it’s with you.

    Were you serious about the brand? Because I would totally do that.

    2 Responses to I know what that stuff do, Mister Goody Two Shoes

    1. I would Do Anything
      August 14, 2013 at 1:13 pm

      I Was more than serious. There was no trickery only an illusion we created ourselves which when it wore off we realised why aren’t we sprinting like a Olympian which I will boldly say you are in for a surprise as this man has physically worked on himself to the fittest he has ever been & seen. All in the hope for you not just I as no one has seen my shirt off yet…..No one & the defined lines that are my etched taught body is definitely no illusion. Where do I run to? I’ll run across the entire country if I have to lol…just don’t call me Forrest


    2. Bridge
      August 14, 2013 at 1:26 pm

      I’m going to allow this.

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