time always moves at the opposite pace of what you want.
I decided on you, don’t you get that? I decided on you. I don’t want to go fucking other people and then walk around feeling thrilled and then sad, or empty, or whatever. I like the smell of your hair, and I like the sound of your voice, and I fucking decided on you.
I wonder if people notice that I wear the same pair of jeans literally all the time.