There's no way of writing this post. I'm not going to sound good however it's written. If I don't write it, then you're going to call it a lie later on
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Oh god. I've been waiting with my heart in my throat, terrified of what you would write back.
You believe me? You really, really do? Really?
Okay. I meant that I wasn't going to type posts up every time I thought I'd something that would remotely upset you. I thought it was best. Am I right?
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Maybe against my better judgement... but I do.
What exactly aren't you going to do anymore?
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You believe me? You really, really do? Really?
Okay. I meant that I wasn't going to type posts up every time I thought I'd something that would remotely upset you. I thought it was best. Am I right?
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Um.
How are you doing? You okay?
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I'm sitting here at Misha's computer, she's drawing. She's pretty okay too.
How are you doing?
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