As much as i want to, and i know i want to text you on the holidays i don't want to. And i'll damm my self if i was to.
I say to my self what about your birthday, then i have trouble remembering how old you are, knowing full well that you'll be 21 in April. damm my self, i know i should, but until i can prove im worthy of you, your parents will * * * * * , and you won't see me improve.
Bad enough i can't stand the fact your parents call me all those names, i more so want to prove their asses wrong, as hard as that has been.