Your esophageal sphincter 1721 days from now

Do you think that I wanted to let you go, dummy?
I didn’t.
You made it so I had to choose between keeping you and hurting you.
I don’t want to have to hurt you and that matters more than these new emotions.
It would never feel real to me in the first place if I need to incapacitate you and I’ve considered it.
I don’t want to rape you, I want you to be as obsessed with me as I am with you.
You know I’d give you whatever you wanted.
I can’t even be within 2000 miles of you without losing my shit.
It’s not fun having to explain to a therapist that I want to come home to you but the only time you ever roam free is if you have to poop and that is about it.
She is treating me the same way she treats people with heroin addiction!
You’re my fucking heroin.
She knows if I have even spoken to you because she can see it.
I literally look high.
My eyes are darting around, I’m playing chess with myself trying to figure out how to get more of you. I don’t care about anything else when I’m like that and I stop talking to other people entirely, my work suffers, everything evaporates if you happen to be in full view.
You should leave me the fuck alone and I should leave you alone too. A few minutes after I met you, I knew I had to go and I have tried everything.
I’ve even moved across the country, changed my number, deleted social media accounts, everything I could think of to stop myself but if you said you wanted to be here with me, you’d have a flight in your name at the airport in the morning and I wouldn’t care about nothing but you. I hate it.
You hate it. I can already see me going to fucking jail because somebody saw us and misunderstood and called the cops on me. I’m sorry I feel like this about you.
I’d give my right arm for it to be the other way around for a mere thirty seconds.
My imagination is 17 times darker than I’ve ever tried to explain to you honey.
A lady read my star chart and apparently I’m never going to be happy until I do the spooky sexy shit that I’m passionate about to somebody without fear or judgement.
And I pick you to do it to because you are in my head, you bastard.
I want you like I want to breathe.
I fucking hate your scars because they didn’t come from me and we’ll just leave that at that.
I want to see you.
You’ve been handcuffed in my closet before, remember? I want to see your eyes. Your lips. Maybe when you give me what I ask for we’ll get somewhere but you rarely ever do. You should pay me since I don’t matter one bit.
At least I’d get something of yours.
Fucking Bastard, Jesus Christ.
I bet I’ve got that heroin look right now. I want to see all sorts of things stuffed into your mouth.
I’m doomed, I tell you, doomed.

You make me sick you pretty fucking nightmare.
It’s a fucking shame that you are walking around free. You need to be controlled forever.
I miss you. I’m going to hell.
You’re a selfish rat bastard and you shouldn’t get to cum unless you’re going to drink it or I even feel like allowing that to happen at all and I don’t…
I don’t feel like allowing it at all.
You’ll just waste it.
You drive me fucking crazy. You don’t really want me, you tease.
I’d literally have to beat you like a real life fucking slave.
Yeah, I’m in therapy now. I should have been anyway but I don’t trust myself around you. I don’t expect you to do anything but what the fuck I tell you to do and knowing full well that I would never put your life in damn danger and that I love you should have been enough reason for you to obey and let shit happen.
You kept saying that you needed to be free to fuck whatever dumb hoes were in the fucking area, which makes no sense, and you see that now clearly.

You weren’t ready for me and you needed that time but you told me to go and now I’m gone.
Now you want to torture me.
Do you know how many times I wanted to suck a dick while I watched you suck someone else’s?
If any of those people you chase loved you half as much as I demonstrated that I did, my god.

Can you even imagine?
It’s settled. On your 30th birthday in 2024, if you haven’t gotten anyone pregnant and aren’t married then I fully expect that before midnight you’ll be wearing my cage for the rest of your natural life.
Don’t worry, I’ll find you.

That gives you 1721 days to play with. So go fuck off.
Enjoy them.

I love you.

And I’ll see you in no time.
I’m the bad guy baby and the one thing that the villain is good at is patiently waiting in the wings.

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