THE OBSESSIVE FASCINATION

doesn't matter the slightest. Ignore the existence of our story. You won't find anything extraordinary the

that's blackmail, Paul. What the hell did you imagine? That you could continue to own my body and soul until the end of time? You are very selfish, let me tell you. Are you only aware of my own desires? No, I am correc

go to the end of my process? How to slip away without ever being caught by the shirt? I don't like my cowardice. I light a cigarette for the first of this morning. Seeing the smoke evaporate in the living room will give me courage. I will imagine that this smoke is me. As sooner out than escaped, as neither seen

y and how much you like happy endings, but there, I'm sorry,

e salt shaker into my pasta-awkwardness coupled with nervousness, no doubt. No, I can't leave it unanswered. I would love to take my suitcases and leave him two or three panties so that he does not feel too abandoned but, if I do not close the door properly to our story, I will not be able to cross the bridge to start a new one. I then look out the window and se

now. Functions: Trying to love y

ld fit. I'm exhausted. I am running out of energy and lack to try. I

liar to me, but they boost me and give me that spirit that I lack. I cannot go on like this. There is no winner in this game. What does it give him to fall asleep near a chest that imagines other hands than his? He ha

he kitchen near the onions. Paul, I'm sorry. Believe me, I don't like to write this type of letter. My pen must hate me for urging me to tell you this. The sheet must also suffer under the we

e if needed. A bottle is stored in the kitchen cupboard. It was not a cheap bottle. Honor it. Paul, are you ready? Can I start? Gosh, I feel like a nurse about to give you an injection. Yes, it will sting, hurt