It’s crazy how fast this has all spiraled out of control. I learned about her existence three goddamn days ago, but the obsession has me in an absolute chokehold. I don’t remember what life was like before her; I just know that I saw her, touched her, and breathed her in, and nothing since then has ever been the same.
Since the Jillian Pierce lightning bolt struck me, the situation has only gotten worse. One night wasn’t enough. I went back the next night and f****d her on her kitchen floor. I went back the night after that and she gave me her three little rules—no names, mask stays on, no falling in love—and I agreed to all of them while knowing I’d break every single one. Then Thanksgiving happened. I followed her to a playground and watched her cry at a chain-link fence for reasons I s
