You’re born with a ton of fucks to give, so you spend them like a kid with a credit card. You give fucks about your friends, about your grades, about your fashion sense, about strangers’ opinions. You give way too many fucks about way too many things. You have so many. Then, as you get older, you have maybe 10 fucks per month, so you learn to budget them. You allocate fucks to family and career, but there aren’t enough fucks to give to the newest fads. Oh, someone at work has something they need my help with that’s outside my job title? I’ll do my best to allocate some fucks, but this month is pretty tight. Then, as you get even older, you’re down to 1-2 fucks per month, and those fucks are pretty damn precious. You give them to your family and your hobbies and your job, and that’s kinda it. It’s not your fault – fucks expire too quickly. I would’ve liked to save my fucks from when I was younger but I can’t. Then, you hit fuck insolvency. You’re getting like 1 fuck a year, and you have to make it last. So you go without, and even previously fuck-worthy things, you just can’t give a fuck. Some people run out really quickly, Some people have a fuck trust fund that pays out a decent amount even into old age. But at some point, the fuck faucet runs completely dry and you’re out of fucks to give. It’s just basic Fuckonomics.
I want to spend October with you, because it’s
my favorite month and happens during my
favorite season. I wish we could aimlessly
walk around a forest and with each leaf that
falls from the branches above, we fall a little
more for each other too. While hand in hand
we can crave the smell of warm coffee and
cinnamon muffins on a chilly morning, we
could feel the autumn breeze brush against
our skin and the goose bumps we get, we
won’t be able to tell if it’s from touching each
other’s skin or from the wind being too cool.
When we lay in bed you’d have the hardest
time moving an inch away from me, because
I’d want to be skin to skin every minute.
These lonely summer nights without you make
me crave the fall, and crave the season of
death in the hopes that maybe this loneliness
would die too, and you’d appear by my side.
I can’t tell if I love the night too dearly, or
hate it too passionately. I think I’d adore
it if I got to sleep next to you every evening,
and I think that I’d enjoy the sunset more
watching it hit your face than actually
seeing it say goodnight. I just crave to
spend time with you, I do.
I need to kiss you so badly. One of those kisses where I’m pressing against you as much as possible and my hands are in your hair and moving down your back, clutching to you in any way I can, kissing you as deeply as possible and thinking you’re mine, mine, mine.
I need 6 minutes of this not 6 seconds.
Whenever I feel sad I just remember that this is a thing that happened
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did i mean that little to you?
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