Sweetheart should’ve learned by now. There was no such thing as privacy.
teeth
Please don’t try to reason with me.
I make absolutely outlandish requests. I know that. Sometimes I’ll ask you to do things that are totally and completely not okay. I’ll make demands of you that I know I don’t actually want of things that I can’t actually handle. When you take me to certain places i my head, I know I blurt out things I don’t entirely mean, I call myself words I don’t particularly associate with myself, I make offers that I’d hope you’d never actually take.
I understand how fragile it can make me. I don’t envy your position. I know I create little paradoxes for you, challenges, catch-22s that overcomplicate what began as such a simple little game. And I know I throw wrenches into perfectly functioning machines just to watch the gears stop and quiver and break because I am strange and impulsive and unrelenting.
And I’m not asking you to do it right all the time or to know all the answers. Consider this a warning, albeit a little late in the game. But, please, don’t try to reason with me. Because you of all people know that I am completely and utterly unreasonable.
remind me don’t assume I know
I have a very large, pronounced lower lip that I’ve gotten into the pattern of biting. It’s a bad habit of mine, but other people don’t seem to mind.
“Oh? So I can just admire those in the mirror, too?"
You vain little shit. I’m already pissed at you. You’re not helping your case. I’m going to leave teeth marks. Deep. Red. Teeth marks.