86

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. or OMFG, as the kids say, which doesn’t land nearly as well IMHO. We are ENGAGED. I swear to god, though, I almost killed you because when you were all, “I have to talk to you about something …” and then “… we’ve only been together for three months …” I was convinced you were going to say, “I know we’ve only been together for three months, but our time is coming to an end because … I’m dying.” Like WTF!? I thought I was going to be giving you sympathy head for the next 5 days but thank GODDESS that didn’t end up being the case. Now I’m giving you engagement head instead 👀

84

I was really afraid we weren’t going to make it off that flight yesterday. I was convinced that the beefy guy sitting next to you bouncing his leg, inhaling apple juice, and biting his nails was preparing to plant a bomb off in the bathroom. We were sitting RIGHT NEXT TO the bathroom, so it wouldn’t be hard. I decided to be extra nice to him just in case. We lived. You’re welcome.

82

Yesterday I asked you, “Should I get vacation nails, baby?” and you said, “Yeah, baby, you should do your nails,” but then I remembered when I told you that if you ever had plans to propose, I’d be really mad if you hadn’t at least told me to get my nails done in advance (you know, since they usually look ragged af) and I wondered, are these vacation nails, or vacation nails. So, when I should have been packing, I spent two hours giving myself a long nail manicure with one of those at-home kits. There are so many steps!!! This is why I forgot to bring underwear to Costa Rica.

81

I’m doing my nails before Puerto Domingo 👀 💍

79

Am I doing this wrong? Are my oaths too long? I guess I am writing about you, after all.

77

I just peeped over at the blood oath you’re writing and it was something about wanting to write about me all the time and I just want you to know that I haven’t written about you yet. No. Not really written. Notes and like diary entries, sure, but not, like, an actual thing. I mean there was that sexy zine love letter but you know what I mean. But that’s a good thing. Because the things I write about are bad and sad, and I feel like I have to give those stories a voice before I start cavalierly writing about chowing down on your cock all the time.

75

When good things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. When bad things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. When weird things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. Live, laugh, love, bitches.

73

Although I don’t actually believe in soulmates – who has time to sit up in heaven or wherever and match-make while wars are happening? (wait, maybe that’s why wars are happening????) – you are SO right for me that it almost makes me a believer.

71

When we were in the waiting room holding tight for our Covid shots, I saw that your jacket was on the floor and for a tiny moment, I thought, “How could I be with someone who’s OK with putting their jacket back on after it’s been on the FLOOR OF A PHARMACY IN A SAFEWAY!?!?!? I mean, Safeway is already a cesspool. Their pharmacy? Absolutely a breeding ground for the black plague. I thought about burning the jacket but ended up fucking you instead.

69

I’m sitting with you in bed, cum dripping out of my pussy, talking about how you secretly love Enya and I secretly love Creed and I couldn’t be more in love. I mean, you really accept me for who I am. I didn’t tell you, however, that I stole my mom’s credit card one time in high school to subscribe to monthly deliveries of Pure Moods. I thought I was all deep and shit listening to those CD’s on my discman on the school bus while everyone else was listening to Coolio or Linkin Park, and it’s reassuring to know that somewhere far away, at the same time, you were pretending not to listen to Enya. Oh yeah, I also like Linkin Park.