As I’m typing right now, it’s marked the 36th hour you started isolating yourself on some island and obviously I’m not invited. Over the past 6 months, we’ve never been apart for even 12 hours even on hard days. So the mess I’m feeling inside right now is off the chart, squeezing my endurance, and driving me damn self to insanity.

I don’t want to sound like a weak-sauce gentlemen because I’m not. But what else am I supposed to do when you’re not around? It’s been too much, baby. If you love me, come back already. I need you. I really do.

There are certain girls that aren’t like you. They might be cuter, smarter, funnier than you. Some might be one hell of a woman and know how to turn a gentlemen on. They could have a good pair of hands to cook, not only that, maybe even a good recipe to compliment it. 

But then again, they aren’t like you. 99.99% of women on this planet don’t even know that I secretly wanna have sex with Lady Gaga like you do, or patient enough to alarm me 5 times in a row at 7 in the morning just so I can catch up with a soccer match on TV. For sure, you’re made of flaws, but don’t you know that’s what makes you so goddamn special? I just love the way you are, whether you are these things or not, my one and only little monster.