Oh god, it’s just occurred to me that I have created this whole narrative about what might be happening and none of it may be true. I’m writing all this stuff to you based, in part, on what I believe you might be feeling without any actual proof that you are feeling any of that. Fuck me. Maybe you deleted me because you wanted to!
Oh jesus. I need an inhaler. I think I’m gonna pass out.
Well, I hope you never read any of this if that’s the case. Because, DAMN. That’s super fucking embarrassing. Like, whoah homegirl, you need to relax and chill out, baby. This man ain’t studying you and you have all but asked him to marry you.