She tricked me.
The bitch.
Here I am, caught with my dick in my hands like I'm some angst-ridden, pimply teenager.
How was I supposed to know she'd come back? I assumed she was off gallivanting in some exotic location with a billionaire she compelled. But no. Instead she's pretending to be someone who made me appear like a fucking love struck dumbass.
Back to the topic at hand.
She's back.
But why? And for how long?
Even though she's ten pounds of crazy bitch in a five pound bag, even though she ripped me apart, even though everything she touches turns to shit, I still can't help but hold out hope.
Maybe she came back for me.
