In a flash, it’s six hours later and I know the words to all of One Direction’s songs and I hate Finchel and I think bowties are cool and I want Sherlock to shag the bejesus out of John Watson. I look out my window at the people having fun on the city streets and I pity them.
Listen, I want you to truly appreciate my sustained effort to pretend to be a reasonable human being. I’ve gone days without texting you, multiple days without texting you, three whole days without texting you. The cumulative willpower illustrated by this should leave your mind utterly boggled, exceedingly boggled.