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Diary Of A Redhead


mylolita
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Actually have a thing for big, beefy, heavy set older men. Am I warped or what? 
 

Christipher Hitchens, intellectual flirt! 
 

I nearly sent him a nude fan picture wrapped in the American flag. Read nearly everything he’s published and nearly all his articles including when he was at Vanity Fair. Fellow night owl. Inspirational mind and writer. Ugh! Excellent! Travesty he died but he did smoke and drink like there was no tomorrow, all the more the appeal of him! 
 

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If anyone is interested in religious intellectual debate, Christopher Hitchins I believe New York apartment, or the love of a great renaissance marble table! 
 

Hitch just charming the pants off them all making them laugh and hosting like a true gent - everyone has their drinks. Jonny Walker Black whisky for Christopher, no less, bit of ice. 
 

Anyone who has ever discussed even, simply discussed religion and the possibility it could actually not be true, can relate to the “you are arrogant, you are strident, you don’t know the Bible” responses. 
 

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We’re supposed to be going out tonight, me and D. First time together at a restaurant for… oh God, maybe a year and a half at least. 
 

The baby sitting situation is so bad. We just can’t get away. Anyway, we’ve been arguing so much lately. I feel this horrible drifting happening over the last year. I think he’s checking out and so am I. I want to talk and fix it, he wants me to shut up and then he wants to fix it. We’ve both taken on too much with zero help. He’s been sick a lot this year, we’ve had financial stress. I thought we were out of the zone but the large amount of money he’s been making lately has paid off debts and bought some stock. I’m not seeing any kitchen yet, and the carpentry work that’s going on and turning the house upside down at the moment is costing more than we thought, again and again, same old same old.

 

He keeps talking about “want to work less” and “no stress” and this and that which, I don’t know, I’m not going to lie, I find it so weak. I have to say it, I can’t say it to anyone else. I feel like I can rely on him less and less for everything - I used to be able to talk to him about anything, now he has no energy for it and just wants a quiet life, we disagree on things more than ever before, we clash over parenting styles a lot, he’s feeling the pressure with work more than ever, he’s sick more and I have to pick up the slack. The week before Christmas and Christmas it was the flu, now he’s ill again so I have the kids from 5am till 10:30am and I see he’s up and he’s saying I’ll take over it’s okay and I’m saying well, are you well enough? And he’s saying yes yes you relax and so I make myself some tea and by 11:30 he’s saying no he can’t actually so I take back over, and I think we’ll the kids could do with some fresh air, but they need dinner first, so it’s now 12:30 and he’s saying I can come back up so I bring up dinner where they are for a pic nic situation thing and he’s like “aren’t you joining us?” And frankly I’ve been up since 5am and I just want a break. And I say I’d rather take half an hour. It’s a horrible tag team situation and it happens all the time and I want to do things as a family, but we’re both too knackered, frankly. And it’s chipping away at us as a mother and father and as a couple, because it’s starting to feel like we are single people who look after our kids “in this time slot” and “in that time slot”. It’s not right. 
 

Then I’m like well, could you take them out for some fresh air for an hour if you feel better? Then he doesn’t know whether he’ll be okay, I need to come. There goes the promise of my time. Y’know what, we end up going out and it sucks. It’s freezing cold, my middle daughter is crying because we forgot her special blanket (major school boy error) my husband is in a total grump because I bought him a jumper that’s not right and we’re in this country bumpkin shop and he doesn’t see anything and the kids are messing on touching everything and then there is this crash, and my son has got himself into a tiny changing room and somehow the wood that covers some pipes up a wall has come down on him. So he’s crying his eyes out poor thing with the a scraped nose. And the lady in the shop is lovely, she really is, but I’m just done. I say, how about we do this another day. Would it be okay to have a credit note please? She says of course and I say thank you for understanding. He’ll come back another time. And then D is giving me a run down about spending too much because he finds out the price of the jumper because of the credit note. Oh Lord.

 

My daughter balls her eyes out the 15 minutes back which feels like a lifetime of wind and disappointment in my eyes. I can’t appease her. Days like this, it just feels too much like a long hard marathon like slog, rather than a pleasure being a mother. I’m sorry. 
 

We get in, I deliver everyone everything they were crying about - blanket, juice, snacks, here’s some tv. I just walk upstairs thinking right just sit there for half an hour will ya while I go silently scream into my closet or envisage throwing myself out the window on our third floor. 
 

Sick of fighting over money, sick of being told “but you had a break”, sick of being told how hard and stressful and how much pressure everything is. No S**T. It’s a lot of pressure managing three kids day in day out. I can’t just quit and say hand me my slippers I’m selling up! I’m getting tired of it. 
 

Yesterday, I was up in the attic playing with the kids. D walks up with a small skinny bald headed guy. A new potential photographer he wants to hire for some big jobs coming up, to create some catalogues, this and that. I didn’t know anyone was coming but it doesn’t matter. We all get talking and he seems like a really nice, placid guy. His work is interesting, it’s mostly fashion photography and he travels to London every week to do it. The guys get on to the economy and how expensive everything is now and it’s doom and gloom and D says something he’s said before which really twists a knife deep into me. He half joked, “I would have had a little semi-detached new build in so and so but we’re here now so it is what it is”. It is what it is?! 
 

Oh poor you! GOD! When that guy went I said, “Will you stop telling everyone and his mother how terrible it is that your evil wife dragged you into a large house and forced you into it all and stopped you retiring and settling down to magazines and the kids?!” He was like, “I’m not doing this. Don’t be nasty with me. You’re being cruel.” 
 

I know he wanted a little simple life, I know it, because we discussed it. Well, if I’d got my whole way we’d be in a rural cottage on a cliff with my chickens round my feet and brisk wind whipping my hair. But we’re not. We both compromised. He wanted to take all his money and settle and ease off. God, Y’know, hate me for it, I don’t care, hate me for saying it, because he does anyway, so I can add some more on my list - but I found it droppingly unattractive. I said, “Where has all your ambition gone?”

 

He took massive offence at this. I could tell he was hurt. He said, “I’m not taking this from you.” I left the bedroom and I was up with the kids feeling sick from our harsh words for about 2 hours, then I realised he had left and gone out somewhere. 
 

When I met him, I’m not gonna lie, his ambition and drive were one of the main things that attracted me too him. I didn’t want his Dad who packed up and took a year off to watch tv. I didn’t want my Dad, who never took any risks and saved and saved and paid off his little mortgage when he was 40 and was constantly nervously checking his bank balance. I didn’t want that because I don’t find Mr Safe Mr Sensible attractive. He tells me, it’s different now we have the kids. And, I get that. But, pipe and slipper time?!?!?!

 

Of course I don’t want him keeled over from a heart attack. Of course I know he is under immense stress, a lot. I liked the days and years I never heard about it and he just “handled it”. “I’ll sort it out” was the mantra, and he did. It was very attractive. Now, I’m horribly, in an ashamed way, losing respect for him. 
 

What a horrible, selfish, probably un-relatable situation to be in. Am I just a horrible wife? Is nothing good enough for me ever? A terrible person?! 
 

I have said before, look - I can go out to work on a night, the kids would never even know I was gone. He won’t have it. He says, it’s not like before. We have kids now. It doesn’t feel right, you going off and dancing. I can’t have that. Those times are done with.

 

But that’s all I can do to inject serious cash. My arsenal is limited. I don’t have all these degrees. That’s all I know. I’m sat here dreaming dreams thinking things thinking big and he’s wanting to hanker down and hopefully call it a day and dabble in business and wind it down. All he talks about is how stressed he is, how hard the times are financially with the economy, how he can’t sleep and how he doesn’t want this for the next 20 years. 
 

Horribly, I don’t like that. Why!? Shouldn’t I be happy? I should say oh darling, good for you! Yes make life easy and retreat! But I’m not! I want more.

 

I was raised like this, right or wrong - men work, and work hard, bring home the bacon. Women raise the kids for the majority, keep the home, look fabulous and host. Those are my ideals. 
 

I always imagined, up and up and up. And to stop when we just couldn’t go any higher. I didn’t know the day would come as soon as it has. 
 

There’s more to life I know. But I just, I find it hard to accept a stoppage, a non-movement forward. The thought of stillness, of staying, of remaining - seems more like stagnation to me. Someone has just brought bars down on me.

 

After 15 years together, a dinner date now feels more like going to war, or a marital therapy session. I’m tired of arguments, but I don’t want to roll over and say give me my bed. I have too much life in me.

 

It makes me feel horrible, vicious, and resentful. It makes me feel like grabbing onto something and taking something for myself, a “I’ll show THEM” attitude, a bitter “I’ll do it myself”.

 

I don’t want your average life. I don’t feel like an average person. I feel wild and unhinged and like I’m in captivity. I’m tired at the same time. Not in a, I need so much sleep way - tired of the weight of drama and problems and everyone else needing everything. Everyone’s sick - I pick it up. Where’s my back up? Where’s MY sick day?! I don’t have one, that’s what. I just don’t. 
 

I hear hints of advice sometimes from people and they don’t have a clue. They don’t know what it is to carry financial weight like we have. They don’t know what it is to raise three babies close together. They haven’t held down their marriages. I’ll take it from a businessman, I’ll take it from a mother of 5, I’ll take it from someone who’s been happily married for 30 years. I won’t take it from someone who’s been in a relationship for five minutes or come out of a bunch of failed ones. I won’t take it from parents of one baby, I’m sorry, it’s a different ball game. I won’t take it from people who have nice stable little salary jobs where the money is the same every month and you go tick tick tick pay the gas man pay the water pay my food budget budget sensible sensible. All those cosy safe people are just in this soup I don’t understand. I don’t want any part of that.

 

Having three kids isn’t a big deal. Having a husband who works away isn’t a big deal. Having financial stress, sometimes isn’t such a big deal. Having no help with any of your kids isn’t a big deal. Getting in strange low moods isn’t a big deal. Being tired or restless isn’t a big deal. Not doing something for yourself, is not too much of a big deal. Put them all together though, and the deal feels big. Or, big to me. 
 

I have my health, I have beautiful children and a gorgeous home. D says, “Just be kind to me, relax, take care of the kids, enjoy your luxuries and let me do my thing” - all fine and well, if that seemed to be the case.

 

I struggle, he struggles, we suddenly can’t communicate without it turning into a terrible fight. 
 

I don’t even want to go on this date. My mother in law is downstairs. My husband arranged it all. What I want is to go cry in my car. I don’t even know what I want to do. I just want to forget I’m a wife and a mother and I just don’t want anyone to ask anything of me for a few hours. I just want to be left alone. I just want to be happy, that’s what. I want what I want, I can’t change that or magic it away and make myself a sweet lovely person who says Hunny let’s sell up and live in a cul de sac and you watch Bond re-runs in your sweatpants. That ain’t me. 
 

I feel like escaping. I want to run away sometimes. I refuse to end up being one of those divorced women who screwed up their kids and made the rest of their lives miserable because they just couldn’t be content or happy or appreciative. 
 

D says, “I hate it when you talk like this because it makes me feel like you want to break up.” And he’s absolutely floored emotionally by it. And in his begging state it’s pitiful. I’m sorry, again, I just have to be honest here, I am not going to lie and pretend I feel other things. 
 

Just because you’re in a marriage, doesn’t mean love is unconditional. Just because you have kids, shouldn’t mean this safety net dangles below and forces you to remain. 
 

I’m not saying this is how it will always be or I want to split but, I can’t lie, I’m just not happy at the moment. Something changed. That night he collapsed and I had to revive him, we had the worst argument we ever had ever had. I said some horrible things, things I didn’t mean. I threw it at him like a dagger. And honestly, seriously - I nearly killed him. I believe that. The father of our beautiful children who adore him so much. The guy I have been obsessed with for 15 years. The love of my life. I was exhausted and resented him, I don’t know, because he hadn’t done his job right, or wasn’t listening to me over and over, and I felt walked on, and I had this vengeance inside me.

 

And now, because of that fateful night, I feel like I can’t really say anything, or say anything about anything not being right, because he’ll take a turn and it will destroy him, or he’ll collapse again. It sounds ridiculous doesn’t it. But it’s true. 
 

I’m rambling. It’s all over the place. My life swings from perfect to torrential in five minutes. I know deep down something isn’t right. We need to fix this but, worse than the actual problem, whatever that may be, is that for the first time ever, we can’t seem to talk about it, and we can’t seem to get past all the hurt to resolve it. He keeps saying I just want a respectful discussion. I keep saying you aren’t listening and you don’t want too. It’s a bad stale mate. 
 

What am I supposed to do? 
 

God knows why we are out at a restaurant tonight. My heart is breaking and I’m tired of this. The whole thing, this whole thing, is filling me with disappointment. I just feel deflated but amped up to do something. I don’t want to feel alone in my future or ambitions. A bitterness is pickling my heart. Why can’t I just be happy? Why can’t I just say well done? Why do I want more? Why do I secretly think, if given the reigns, I can do better? Why are we keeping score? What makes me so special and deserving anyway?! Why should I feel ENTITLED?! 
 

I hate tonight. I just wish for one night, just one night only - I didn’t have to be a mother, I didn’t have to be a daughter in law, I didn’t have to be a wife, I didn’t have to be “the one who has it all together”. I just wish I could cry my heart out but I can’t. I just feel so angry instead. No space, no time for any of it. 
 

Life isn’t what I thought it would be.

 

I thought life had something special in line for me. I thought I wouldn’t have to lift a finger, just smile my way through it. I thought little things would get me through everything. I thought I could do anything and so could he. 
 

I don’t want to say, this is it, right here, as it is, forever. I just can’t bring myself to do it.

 

I don’t want to stand still. I can’t. I can’t accept that my lot in life is to stand here. If I don’t move forward, I’ll die. If I don’t have the realistic hope of that, I don’t know how I can stand it?!

 

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9 hours ago, mylolita said:

Bex NO! I get it! I do! Robin Hood! LOL! I mean, not like how I’m in worship and awe of Jude Law like, knees at the alter, but I do get it!

 

I love a baddie! Or anti-hero! 
 

I tell you who else I actually like, might mostly be his voice but I have/had a massive crush on Christopher Hitchins and kind of, not in a big way but, Jeremy Ions! Mostly his voice I think?! 
 

NO NO CRUSH AWAY PLEASE! 🤭🤣

 

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Love Jeremy Irons especially in Lolita! Gotta say though, Dominique Swain was fire in that role too 🤌🏻

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I could hear the door click and my mother in law rustle in with bags of Fish and Chips. I felt idiotic and embarrassed. I'd been holed up in my bedroom like a teenager for an hour and hadn't even come down to say hi. D will of saved face for me and told her some b***sh*t about me taking a nap before we go out.

Happy, joyous noises from the kids running around upstairs infiltrated my moody slump. I shouted up, "Sorry! Just dressing and I'll be up!"

My son came in five minutes later. He walked through a thrown across rejected pile of: dark green velvet dress, lime green slinky shirt dress with matching fabric waist belt, pale powder pink knitted wrap dress with batwing sleeves, deep red fine knit dress with criss cross strap across the boobs and a peek a boo backless slit near the lower bum. 

He reached up and kissed me on my cheek. His face was like an angel.
 

"What are you doing Mam?"

"I'm getting dress sugar, I'll be up in two ticks." I ruffled his mass of blonde curls and instantly felt better. I grabbed him as he turned to leave and squeezed him and assaulted him with kisses. He was laughing and wriggling and told me to come up soon, don't be long! He wanted to show me his game.

He quickly flipped to leave but then, on second thought, said, "Mam?" And hurried over to a little basket bowl I have full of accessories. "I always like you best in this". He handed me a colourful, floral, silk scarf I always tie in my hair. I ended scooping my curls up and tying it round and letting the ends fall around my neck. He was right.

D walked in smart and put together, I couldn't even be mad anymore and was consumed with thoughts about how handsome he suddenly looked.

He didn't say anything. I told him I was sorry, he said let's forget it and have a nice night. He looked wounded, then suddenly pulled me in a gave me the most tender, sweet kiss on my cheek that melted my soul, reassuring me I deserve the gates of hell for my bad behaviour.

We were about to step out, kids tucked in and snoring, when he said, "Do you have my phone?"

"No love!" He starts patting himself down. My mother in law starts with the police questioning. With kind of, comical uh oh, I go into the utility room and can hear the clunk clunk of a phone that has been inside a dressing gown pocket and left in. I press drain. We wait in silence for the 14 minutes. I'm saying sorry, he's saying it's okay, but I had "that deal on" and "that picture you took yesterday" but he's cool about it. He says, best be off, let's go, we can ask Gran to take it out.

I joked, "I always hated it when you checked your phone over meals out." He rolled his eyes and gave me another squeeze.

The restaurant was beautiful, a cosy little Italian, and packed with bustle and laughing and candle lit circular tables. We flirted and I felt like we were on a proper date all over again, it was so nice.

I just need to relax, I have so much already. So so so so much.

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I find this so unbelievably cute because, I can relate! And I am not autistic. But, she is just saying out loud everything I thought was bursting inside of me on MY first date!!! 

Adorable, adorable, adorable! 

When you find love, I don't care - I think it hits you like lightening. I think you know it too. It's too big a thing to be able to ignore! The most amazing thing, ever ever ever ever. 

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7 minutes ago, Jibralta said:

That was really cute!!

Don't they make the best couple!?! And their positivity is gorgeous! Just gorgeous! And the absolute honesty! Lovely!

I clapped when they kissed - LOL! Just loved it.

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  • 2 weeks later...


You’d be lyin’ if you said I wasn’t something that you’re into

We riding, it's time I decided
Forget all the pride and
You're in for a surprising
We riding, it's time I decided

Just leave it, leave it, leave it

 

 

Never been your average girl

So take time with me, take time 

Baby talk to me with some action

 

 

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Everything’s going my way baby.

 

33, lucky thirty three? Am I in my prime? 
 

Not one grey hair in sight, not one noticeable wrinkle. Been with my beef cake of a husband for fifteen years who still chases me up the stairs and begs on his knees to take me to bed. I have three beautiful, healthy, happy, bright bright children who break my heart every morning they wake. I lay my head in a stately house. Business is good good good. 
 

If I tick off another dream, I don’t know if I will have any left? 
 

Done and dusted sooner than I ever thought? Does that make it over? Does that make me, over?

 

Like hell! Let it freeze over. There will always be another day for me, another dollar, another dream; endless love. Love being the main thing.

 

To be the Queen of all you survey.

 

A late cheers to the good times AND the bad. Come what may, I face you with a red, Cupid bow lip.

 

 

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You wouldn’t ever realise this but, when I’m good… really good? Nothing can touch me. And, it won’t and couldn’t, because I believe it can’t.

 

There was immense, sultry, exotic beauty in the sadness. There was deep glamour in it. There is mood and luxe and deliciousness to be had in these happy times too. 
 

I have enjoyed it all, strangely. I look back, and in my own strange, strange, pretty way, I enjoyed it all.

 

I think I know what’s good for me now. Can you learn a years worth of lessons in two weeks? I think you can assault a lifetime of wisdom in one second. It all depends.

 

Do you trust me? 
 

Get in the car, I’m taking a drive. Let’s take our fun with both hands. We’re all gonna die, so let’s LIVE.

 

I’m ALIVE! 

 

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Won't you come see about me?

I'll be alone, dancing you know it, baby
 

Don't you try to pretend
It's my feeling we'll win in the end
I won't harm you or touch your defenses
Vanity, insecurity ah
 

Don't you forget about me
I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby

Going to take you apart 
I'll put us back together at heart, baby
 

When you walk on by
And you call my name

 

I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby

 

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I do this thing, I act dumb.

 

I want you to talk and tell me something I don’t know, even if I know it. I want to hear you. I want to observe and judge and see you work.

 

I want a bashful man to talk to me about quantum physics at 2am over hot cherry pie and coffee. Energy is eternally fascinating. It’s never lost. As Oscar Wilde once hinted at, there is only interest in the Saint, or the Sinner, in genius, or beauty. Anything inbetween falls through the holes in the minds sieve. 
 

I have just swapped out romantic classic literature for physics. Physics seems highly romantic. 
 

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Someone asked me intently what I did for a living and what my background was.

 

I felt like saying, I’m a writer. I’m a dancer. I’m a mother. I’m a wife. I’m a lover. I’m a dreamer. I’m a wanderer. 
 

Just odd jobs.

 

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I had my Happy Ever After, text book style, grade A; A flippin’ star!

 

What happens after the Ever After isn’t always Happy.

 

You don’t know what I’m talking about do you? Or maybe, life liver, maybe you’re lucky enough that’cha do? 

 

 

After laughter comes tears

After your laughter there will be tears

When you're in love, you're happy

When your in a arm, you gaze

This doesn't last always

 

After your laughter there will be tears

My friends all say, don't try to hold it in

But I can't let that guy know how I feel

I'll try to hold back my, my, my tears

 

But they keep say

After your laughter oh, oh, oh

I'll try to hide, hide my sorrows

I wonder can I hold them till tomorrow?

Maybe I’ll hold them for a year?

 

But they keep say

After your laughter

Now you will see those wet little tears

After your laughter

A little biddy tear will look climb into your eye

 

x

 

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Valentines Day is coming up, but, I don’t need the fourteenth to let you know how know I feel.

 

Who keeps a wild, silly special thing like me turning round and dropping the car keys back in our dish? 
 

Who pretends not to be jealous, but keeps those blue eyes to the side when anyone else is around?

 

Who shows me off at any opportunity? 
 

Who drops it all for this crazy bird? 

 

Who’s skin turns caramel tan in the sun? Who’s brows are straight, serious and brooding? Who’s eyes reflect the sky? Who’s broad shoulders strain fabric when you move? The way your thick hands hold a pool cue, the way you spin a ball, the way your cheeky smile spreads fast? The way you grabbed someone who dared try to lay a finger on me. The stubble always on your face, the careless effortless sling way you throw on a t-shirt. The deep breathing you make in your sleep. The way you know when to tell me to shut up, the way you know when to pull me close. Early morning hands rubbing my back. The way you kiss my feet with religious reverence. The way you are with our children. The way you needed me to be the mother of our babies. Your unfaltering honesty. Your underdog drive. Your shocking intelligence. The way your skin smells musky and all you. Your natural charged flirt. Your generous, have whatever you want from me  nature. The way you won’t suffer a fool. The way the cap on your front tooth chips every few years. The way you eat a whole punnet of grapes. Your ankles crossed on the coffee table. The way your hand looks when you hold the wheel. No one knows but me, that behind the rough, blunt brute, is a sensitive artistic with the most exquisite, romantic eye for absolutely anything and everything.

 

I may be a woman now, and I may have been a woman then, but time stopped still the night I met you, and my heart is forever only eighteen. I look upon you, and you will always be, just turning twenty eight, with dirty blonde messy cropped curls. That day you picked me up in your beat up green van, my heart was dancing way way above in the heavenly skies. I don’t think it ever came back down. I have been high, then low, then high, for the rest of my life D. I curse you and I worship you. 
 

We couldn’t belong to anyone else. I think the term power couple was meant for us. When we’re good, we’re unstoppable, in every little thing, every single little thing! 

 

You have drove a girl to write secret diary love letters to you for fifteen years, and darlin’, you’ll never know! 
 

I never thought I would have my white legs wrapped around someone like you. I adore your mind, your face, your chest, and, other things baby I just can’t mention on here!

 

You’re my best friend.

 

You love me, more than you love yourself.

 

Every drive just, brings me back to you.

 

I’ll die loving you. No one could ever take your place. Our love is for the history books. Our love is, all time. Our love is, one hellofa sure thing.
 

I adore you! I absolutely ADORE YOU!

 

And if sometimes it isn’t clear? I need you. I really, really need you. I love you. 
 

Proud to be shackled to someone like you. I am enamoured with my chains.

 

I know you’ll always protect me, love me, care for me, provide for me. I don’t need anything else. Well… nearly!!!!!!

 

But, you know all this already.

 

I wonder what the next fifteen years will bring? 
 

You know I always ask a question, and end with a kiss.

 

To - The Hunk

From - Curly x 

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