He’s a good man and I know he loves me deep down. He loves me when he tells me he despises me and this I know: because he does it in such a way that his tongue stops tasting like bitter tea and instead pours out sweet syrup all over me. He’s a good man […]
He never laid a hand on me but that didn’t mean his punches didn’t hurt.
You clearly have something missing in you; if you’re constantly searching for the pieces in other people. Making somebody else emptier; will never make you whole.