Anonymous 12/19/2021 (Sun) 11:39:33 No.7886 del
>>7885
>someday, when the dust settles and shes where she belongs (in my arms), we will run a beautiful no-kill animal shelter and own a farm, in some quaint little new england town near the beach with a lighthouse on it. on our lunch breaks she and I can stroll along the beach and hold hands, then in the evenings she will retire to her little artists studio that ive built her. there will be oils and pencils and crayons and and easels everywhere, half finished works scattered about. we both look forward to getting out of bed every day because we love our lives. we tend to the animals by day , and create our art by night. and at the end of the day we get to feel each others warmth as we lay next to each other, excited for what tomorrow brings. I cant wait.

And yet something was wrong.
looking into her eyes I couldn't help but get a glimpse of what she was thinking. That something just wasn't right. "Is something wrong?", she asked holding her glass of wine.

I had come to the sudden, unforeseen realization that I was simping for a whore that licked Sam Hyde's asshole and had likely had unprotected sex with negros. It was well and truly over for me.