I'm not sure why I haven't gone (as in a full trip) insane yet, although many will doubt the validity of that statement, particularly the "yet."
I came back for you, so you have to say you love me.
Too.
I made a lot of threats. Different kind of threats. Not "I'm going to hurt you" threats, but if you still love someone after streams of counterintelligence, it says something about the couch. Not just the sex on the couch, which is a story, but the first night on the couch. He said he loved you. You remembered.
Maybe you always want to remember that. Even if other people say it's not true. Ever.
It's a lot of psychological torture to endure for a couch. Especially now when you don't see the couch anymore. OR touch it. Or tell it you miss it. Always.
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