Dear Future Husband, Person, Thing.

Dear possible men that may enter my life,

Welcome. Please keep arms and legs inside the car at all times during the ride. You may notice that I’m a little different then your average woman. You may find yourself suffering from whiplash once you exit the rollercoaster. Sadly, I won’t be getting off. You’re welcome to continue riding at your own risk.

My thoughts are ran by the Tasmanian Devil, and he can be a little scary but also very flattering at the same time. I don’t think that you should be afraid, he won’t hurt you if I say no.

Sometimes when I read, I read out loud in a British accent because it makes me feel classy. I want to feel classy. I’m not classy.

I like jokes that no one thinks are funny. I also take these horrid jokes too far so people stop listening. I also tend to pick at your ego until it bleeds. I don’t mean to, but remember that I really enjoy those awful jokes. I promise though that way deep down I feel awful about it.

And because of my (you could call) craziness, I tend to take liking way too far.

Hey, at least I get my point across. Cause honestly, what is this friend zone bullshit? If I like you, than we’re already friends. Why does it have to be a zone? Why do we have to be stuck there?

Like, what do I have to do? Cut off the fat from my chaffing thighs? Curl my lashes? Remember to pluck my brows? Nah, fuck that. I mean, I could do the thigh thing as chaffing hurts like a bitch. But I wouldn’t be cooling the fire for you. Do I need to stop being myself? Before digging into me and my body, you take a stab at yourself.

Do I have a “You can look, but do not touch” sign on my back? Oh, I don’t? Then why are you so afraid of me?

“Don’t forget, I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

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windycities123

I'm a 23 year old college student that understand the world. It's not the easiest thing.

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