It's rather upsetting how much I like men.

I don't think it pathetic that I write stories about my situations with guys. Those are probably the best ones in my opinion. The beautiful ones fueled with... whatever emotion I'm feeling. Anger, hatred, infatuation. Anything.

Or, I could just be some pathetic bitch that makes up stories about guys that she likes because none of them like her back anywhere but her imagination.

Ouch, son.

Ta-Da!

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I am everything you think I am. I will always fall short of your expectations.
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