I stubbed my big toe on the wall like 2 hours ago and it still hurts.
It’s going to be you and me, for the rest of our lives. You’re the one I’m going to wake up beside, even on days when I don’t want anyone to touch me, or I have a hangover and just want to sleep in, while you want to get up and take the dogs on a run.
I’m the one you’re going to come home to, with the house smelling of spices, even on days when you don’t want to eat something spicy. Okay, maybe all you have to do is call ahead, and I’ll make something else, or we can go out to a restaurant, or get takeout.
We’re the ones who are going to be with each other. You’re going to be with me, and I’m going to be with you, through good times and bad, through the horrible arguments when we’re both in tears and one sentence away from walking out the door for an unknown period of time, through the laughter of us trying to set up the Ikea bookshelf, with half the screws and pegs scattered all over the floor.
It’s you and me, babe, together for the rest of our lives. Because I have you, and I will never look twice at anyone else — unless she has a funny shirt on and I want to read it, and I won’t want anyone else — unless they have food, in which case, I’ll probably only want the food. It’s you, for me. There is no one else, and I don’t even care.
It’s going to be you and me, for the rest of our lives. You’re the one I’m going to wake up beside, even on days when I don’t want anyone to touch me, or I have a hangover and just want to sleep in, while you want to get up and take the dogs on a run.
I’m the one you’re going to come home to, with the house smelling of spices, even on days when you don’t want to eat something spicy. Okay, maybe all you have to do is call ahead, and I’ll make something else, or we can go out to a restaurant, or get takeout.
We’re the ones who are going to be with each other. You’re going to be with me, and I’m going to be with you, through good times and bad, through the horrible arguments when we’re both in tears and one sentence away from walking out the door for an unknown period of time, through the laughter of us trying to set up the Ikea bookshelf, with half the screws and pegs scattered all over the floor.
It’s you and me, babe, together for the rest of our lives. Because I have you, and I will never look twice at anyone else — unless she has a funny shirt on and I want to read it, and I won’t want anyone else — unless they have food, in which case, I’ll probably only want the food. It’s you, for me. There is no one else, and I don’t even care.
It’s going to be you and me, for the rest of our lives. You’re the one I’m going to wake up beside, even on days when I don’t want anyone to touch me, or I have a hangover and just want to sleep in, while you want to get up and take the dogs on a run.
I’m the one you’re going to come home to, with the house smelling of spices, even on days when you don’t want to eat something spicy. Okay, maybe all you have to do is call ahead, and I’ll make something else, or we can go out to a restaurant, or get takeout.
We’re the ones who are going to be with each other. You’re going to be with me, and I’m going to be with you, through good times and bad, through the horrible arguments when we’re both in tears and one sentence away from walking out the door for an unknown period of time, through the laughter of us trying to set up the Ikea bookshelf, with half the screws and pegs scattered all over the floor.
It’s you and me, babe, together for the rest of our lives. Because I have you, and I will never look twice at anyone else — unless she has a funny shirt on and I want to read it, and I won’t want anyone else — unless they have food, in which case, I’ll probably only want the food. It’s you, for me. There is no one else, and I don’t even care.
Love,
Fudge
Oh, that's good. You should work for the BTW Foundation.
Oh, that's good. You should join the BTW Foundation.
I’m late to a lot of things. I’ve been late to dinner parties, to class, to wake up in the mornings, to Skype dates with friends who have moved away. I’m not always late, but there’s a good chance that you should give me an extra five or ten minutes to get somewhere on time.
It’s usually because I’ve decided to sleep in for just two more minutes, or I want to sing one more song in the shower. Sometimes, it’s because I’ve misplaced my keys, or I can’t remember which pair of pants I wore yesterday, but my wallet is still in those pants, so I have to look everywhere.
Other times, I’m too early. I’m there half an hour before I need to be, so I sit around and people-watch, or have a smoke, or read a book. I’ll be honest with you, though — I’m late to places more often than I am early.
Still, I’m going to promise you this; I will be on time whenever you need me. Whether it’s a Skype-date, or a real date where we’re supposed to meet, whether it’s a trip to the dentist for the both of us, or a flight we need to catch, I will be on time.
I’ll show up dressed and ready to go (granted, I might have forgotten or misplaced something), but I will be there, right at the approximated time.
And I’m not going to be late for our wedding. Pinkie-swear. Even if you stub your toe again.
It’s strange for me to think about opening up to anyone. I talk freely to a number of people about many things, but certain things just seem to be off-limits. When these things come up in conversation, I tend to go through what I’m going to say, in my head, over and over again. Then, because I overthink it so much, I end up not saying a lot.
When the topic gets changed to one that I’m more comfortable with, however, I can talk about that, no problem. It’s just those little things that make me uncomfortable, that make me want to excuse myself and leave the area until it’s all been discussed.
But see, this is where it gets weird, for me. Because with you, I know I’ll be ready to open up. It might be a little difficult for me at first, but I know that I’ll get there. One day, when you ask me a question, one that’s made me uncomfortable for as long as I can remember, I’ll be able to sit down, meet your eyes, and answer it.
And I hope that will mean as much to you as it will to me.
I’m late to a lot of things. I’ve been late to dinner parties, to class, to wake up in the mornings, to Skype dates with friends who have moved away. I’m not always late, but there’s a good chance that you should give me an extra five or ten minutes to get somewhere on time.
It’s usually because I’ve decided to sleep in for just two more minutes, or I want to sing one more song in the shower. Sometimes, it’s because I’ve misplaced my keys, or I can’t remember which pair of pants I wore yesterday, but my wallet is still in those pants, so I have to look everywhere.
Other times, I’m too early. I’m there half an hour before I need to be, so I sit around and people-watch, or have a smoke, or read a book. I’ll be honest with you, though — I’m late to places more often than I am early.
Still, I’m going to promise you this; I will be on time whenever you need me. Whether it’s a Skype-date, or a real date where we’re supposed to meet, whether it’s a trip to the dentist for the both of us, or a flight we need to catch, I will be on time.
I’ll show up dressed and ready to go (granted, I might have forgotten or misplaced something), but I will be there, right at the approximated time.
And I’m not going to be late for our wedding. Pinkie-swear. Even if you stub your toe again.
It’s strange for me to think about opening up to anyone. I talk freely to a number of people about many things, but certain things just seem to be off-limits. When these things come up in conversation, I tend to go through what I’m going to say, in my head, over and over again. Then, because I overthink it so much, I end up not saying a lot.
When the topic gets changed to one that I’m more comfortable with, however, I can talk about that, no problem. It’s just those little things that make me uncomfortable, that make me want to excuse myself and leave the area until it’s all been discussed.
But see, this is where it gets weird, for me. Because with you, I know I’ll be ready to open up. It might be a little difficult for me at first, but I know that I’ll get there. One day, when you ask me a question, one that’s made me uncomfortable for as long as I can remember, I’ll be able to sit down, meet your eyes, and answer it.
And I hope that will mean as much to you as it will to me.
Love,
Fudge
You should help me with an essay due two weeks from now.
It’s strange for me to think about opening up to anyone. I talk freely to a number of people about many things, but certain things just seem to be off-limits. When these things come up in conversation, I tend to go through what I’m going to say, in my head, over and over again. Then, because I overthink it so much, I end up not saying a lot.
When the topic gets changed to one that I’m more comfortable with, however, I can talk about that, no problem. It’s just those little things that make me uncomfortable, that make me want to excuse myself and leave the area until it’s all been discussed.
But see, this is where it gets weird, for me. Because with you, I know I’ll be ready to open up. It might be a little difficult for me at first, but I know that I’ll get there. One day, when you ask me a question, one that’s made me uncomfortable for as long as I can remember, I’ll be able to sit down, meet your eyes, and answer it.
And I hope that will mean as much to you as it will to me.
Love,
Fudge
So are these song lyrics, or are you just this quick?
You should work for the BTW Foundation. 
