sometimes bad things happen and you feel bad about it because it just happens and you are powerless and hopelessly weak to stop the winds of change.
my boyfriend rolls hard.
no, really, when he rolls over in bed at night, he tends to hit me. really hard sometimes.
the fact that i spend so much time in the larry tag and my boyfriend:
2. doesn’t judge me for it
3. hasn’t left me yet
that’s true love.
mark just rolled over in bed and almost punched the shit out of me in his sleep and i said whooooa because it caught me by surprise and then i told him he’s been in the middle of the bed all night and he insists he wasn’t as it he were consciously aware of where he was while he was unconscious.
you know it’s true love when your boyfriend doesn’t break up with you while you shove your index finger into his armpit while singing happy trails in broken melody.
why is it so confusing to the gay community that my boyfriend and i are monogamous like i did not move 900 miles to fuck someone else.
i would say i’m a pretty lucky guy.
mark and i are literally just laying in bed together looking at steam punk and adventure time and nightmare before christmas things on etsy and it’s awesome.
so today i drove twelve and a half hours from louisiana to north carolina and now i’m here and i’m delirious and i need some jesus or some coffee or something, i don’t know it’s a lot of conflicting feels.
to the guy in the kroger parking lot who called me and my boyfriend a “group of fags,” i’m sorry you had to see gay people.
but i had to see you and you looked like what’s left in the bottom of an emptied pot of cooking oil.
have a shitty life.