“It’s the kind of affection you always claimed to be immune to, you claimed you were better than.”
You never see it coming. It’s the kind of infatuation that completely blindsides you, like a slap across the face that sobers you straight up from the drunken, sleepy haze you were wandering aimlessly around in. The kind of affection that comes absolutely out of nowhere with no rhyme, no reason, and no logical source of origin. One minute you’re sitting on the couch, making your beer bottles whistle and kicking each other with bare feet, the next you’re wondering what you ever did to deserve this person’s mere existence in your life.
If it were a disease it would be studied, dissected, autopsied to the end until there wasn’t even a sliver of it remaining for anyone to see without magnification. They, the proverbial “they”, would scratch their chins and marvel at it wondering how it grew and morphed into the total twitter-pation that makes you blush…
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