January 2011
28 posts
4 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
4 tags
4 tags
4 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
2 tags
3 tags
2 tags
4 tags
2 tags
Plotting his death
I’ve put myself through the wringer of one epic relationship in the course of about an hour. There’s the guilty party, Mr. Love Kills, staring at me from the torn leather chair, smoking his cigarette asking me why am I plotting to kill him.
I have to.
You’re breaking my heart, but it’s what you were meant to do, if I’m not on this floor crying over what I have to do...
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
3 tags
4 tags
4 tags
5 tags