i won’t really, but still.. enough to stop whatever this was

“I am not made just for kissing. I am not made just for your hands. I can’t survive on just body heat anymore. I’ll die from it, from the lack of nourishment. The lack of poetry, of music, of dancing, of long walks and long conversations. I’ll die without someone who looks at me like I’m the single most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen. Who, even in a crowd, can’t take their eyes off me. Thinks I’m the prettiest girl in the group. In every group. Can’t resist putting their hands on me. Would rather go home and undress me than do almost anything else. No, not almost. Anything else. Finds me the funniest, the bravest, the most interesting. I’ll die if I don’t have it. If someone doesn’t want me more than everyone else. I’m not exaggerating. It’ll kill me. It already is; it’s a slow passing.”

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