it's like i've never even left the field.
this feels too bloody easy; i'm dipping my toes into the devil's river, i'm playing with fire, and i'm juggling more balls than i can stand to handle right now. i should probably slow down just a little bit, no? but damn, i'm having way too much fun. i know my limits, of course. some lines shouldn't be crossed. however ... shouldn't and wouldn't are two different words and mean two different things altogether.
what was that saying again? "behind every bitch is a bastard who made her so." you know, guys and relationships are like ... flagging down cabs. you miss one cab, there's three more on standby. just waiting, ever willing to pick you up and take you to wherever you want to go.
let's face it, nobody is irreplaceable.
you know how it is.
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