February 05, 2008
Tested
He is my drug. I just can't stop. I know I should. And yet I can't. I try and try and try, and then we just open the door back up!
And I know why. It's like how I said a while ago that I could see him in my future and I'd be just very relaxed and content. Apparently he sees the same, too. When we talk about it, it's almost like we're being tested. To see if we can make it to that point in the future.
Or maybe I'm making excuses.
I have horrible spanish tomorrow. Good night
scullerymaid at 1:27 a.m.