I just write what I would read. I want sex, I want honesty, I want tomfoolery. I want me.
2. Scorpio: Sex on the beach isn’t just a drink, it’s a lifestyle.
I made a giant salad. And after eating it all I then started crying over how “fat” I was.
I hold on too tightly to small encounters.
I hate you. I love you. I want to fuck you. I’m not interested.
I love being financially dependent on my parents. It’s so freeing.
Your happiness matters most.
First, I think it’s important that I admit that not only did I receive your text, I read it almost immediately. So when I say that “I didn’t see it” or that “I didn’t read it,” there is a very good chance that I am lying.
Please tell me. How can I be loved? How can I be liked? How can I be relatable? How can I be real and deep and experienced and flawed and understood all at the same time?
Day by day, I started thinking about it less. Started obsessing over it less. It doesn’t matter anymore.