You and me. It’s not the thrill of the chase. It’s not a game. It’s…it’s your tiny ineffectual fists. And your hair. Smells good. And you’re very, very bossy. Keeps me in line.
“I lied. I’m not out of this relationship. I’m in. I’m so in it’s humiliating because here I am, begging. Okay, here it is. Your choice? It’s simple. Her…or me. And I’m sure she’s really great, but Derek…I love you, in a really, really big, pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me, choose me, love me.”
I want to be with you forever and you want to be with me forever. In order to do that, we need to make vows. Commitment. A contract. Give me a piece of paper.
