I told you. All the men in my life die.
I’m not a man in your life, okay? You said so yourself. I’m a little shitpot.
Someone told me to write about you. You infuriate me. You drive me absolutely insane: you’re stubborn, selfish, and ignorant. You constantly tease me and challenge all my opinions. You annoy me so much, but the worst part is that you make me so insanely happy. To me you’re that bad drug I know makes me crazy but I keep coming back for more. You allow me to be myself and yes you tease me, but at the same time you let me be me without running away or turning your back on me. You see my flaws and help me embrace them. You make me laugh. You challenge me and help me grow as a person. You push me into new situations while making sure I stay safe. I didn’t think I could ever feel this way after my last ex, but here it is again. Those feelings are just bubbling out. I just want to spend time with you. To be next to you. Not just having sex, but just spending time with you and being in your presence makes me happier than I have ever been this past year and a half.
She’s not just any witch. She’s something I’ve never seen before. Something b e y o n d powerful.