Hey, Happy Saint Valentine’s Day!
I still love you.
But why do you keep hurting me?
And don’t say I’m imagining it, for a year now you’ve gone out of your way to hurt me, every way that you can, even though I give you everything…
And before you give me the same old emotional blackmail shit - of course I was pleased to see Pompey lose to Blackburn but that doesn’t mean I love Rovers, that’s just a one night stand, it means nothing, that was just a cheap thrill with no strings attached.
But don’t give me bollocks about loyalty - you’ve not always been there for me, what about giving me the cold shoulder for the last few months of last season, it was like sleeping with a frigging ice block, so don’t give me that shit.
Anyway, here’s your card, it cost £2.49 - it took me the whole of January to buy it, and it will probably turn out to be a waste of fucking money.
We’ll have to see how it goes over the next couple of months but you need to decide what you want because this isn’t working for me at the moment.
You’ve changed.
Of course I’m not going to leave you - but life can be better than 90 minutes of clumsy fumbling, with no actual ending of any sort…
No, I don’t want to go to therapy, the last thing I want to do is discuss our shit in public - just paint a smile on, pretend everything is great and we’ll get through this.
Not now, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I don’t need more promises, I want to see signs that you care - so just fucking leave it!
Enjoy your card, it’s got a kitten on it with heart-shaped eyes.
Well I didn’t know you’r allergic to cats!
What the fuck.
