I just need you to stop being nice to me unless you’re gonna marry me.
If it’s gonna be a love story, maybe it’ll be like this… I like you but you don’t. Perhaps, you know . Perhaps, you don’t. But you’re always nice to me. And that’s basically the villain of a the story. You’re niceness. You’re ability to control the gravitational pull in the room. And what do I do? Do I just fall off from that orbit I did try and failed miserably at it… I am still trying. I would like you to do your part, stop being nice to me! Let’s see what happens. Maybe I’ll start unliking you, delete you from my friends list, stop sending you random e-mails and imagining our future together. Can you believe that I actually spent an hour of foresight? Spent an hour or two before I sleep, picturing the life I will have with you and it’s all crappy mushy moments.
So here’s a viable solution, stop being nice and charming and sweet! Otherwise, I might just wallow in misery for the next years to come.
All comments are moderated. Your comments will not appear here unless approved by the blog owner. Thank you.