How do I begin?
I've been waiting so God damn long to meet you, to shake your hand. I've been tirelessly stalking you ever since I was - no lie - like, 5 years old. I see you in my head, I smell you. I can't even dream of you because I can't even imagine what you're like to experience in reality. I see you in my fucking brain, G. I just want to fucking touch you, just to know what it tastes like, to do exactly what I had always wanted to do. To be Fulfilled. You wouldn't believe how many books I've read, how many seminars I've gone to, how much time and energy I have spent trying to live up to what people say are your expectations of me. They better be right because if I end up rudely discovering that NOTHING I wanted came to frutition - I'm killing myself and sending a request to God for a rematch. That's how Real this shit it. Let me tell you...
The day I realize that you are right here. In my bed. Under my thumb (no doubt handcuffed to my head board) You will be my bitch.
Who's your Daddy now?
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