I'll tell you when it was that I started to hate you.
I mean when you really started to chafe my ass.
You kissed me, right?
And when your tongue passed through my lips to caress mine, I felt disgusted.
Knowing that we were surrounded by people while we were sucking face Jesus,
I could have been caught thumbling myself and been less embarrassed.
But I was there.
I was there with you.
And I was vulnerable.
And I felt.
And now time's done its thing.
Specifically, that thing where I'm left with this son of you at three in the morning,
in a future, from that present moment you're in in my past.
If I could be there again in a moment following that one, I'd give up every moment
from this one to that where I felt comfortable to be that disgusting in public with you again.
Do you realize the significance in that?
You have a power over me.
Not many people have had, and I don't want to stab you multiple times.
Hell, I want to keep you around until the sound of my heart drowns out on the wind.
I love you.
Fuck you for making me this way.
