Soft, marshmallow-y center

I'll let you all in a on a secret. Underneath my sarcastic candy coated shell beats the heart of a romantic.

I secretly want the romance, yet I shun it publicly and openly simply because it is easier to pretend not to be disappointed if you've never expressed interest in something in the first place- right?

Completely fucked up logic, I know.

And really, I don't want completely over the top romantic gestures. I don't need to be swept off to Paris for a mini-break, but I wouldn't mind having something less grand.

Like a guy to make me a funny card. Or even slow dance with me for no apparent reason other than it is a Tuesday and he's in love with me.

I guess what brings this to mind is that last month I teased a guy I know about his love for Message in a Bottle. Now first you must understand that I hate Nicholas Spark's and the trite, repetitive crap he writes. So that itself got me rolling.

But I do feel a bit remorseful for teasing him, turns out he is a bit more tenderhearted that I would have guessed and I really do feel bad about it. Unfortunately I've not seen him in a while and I've not had a chance to apologize- and maybe really I'm reading into the situation because I've put myself in his shoes. Probably he doesn't remember the conversation at all and it has fallen away from his mind entirely, but it has stuck with me.

Which is why I'm a bit hard shelled on the outside, because of assholes like myself.  



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