demoniclonelysoul: flimsyatbest:demoniclonelysoul:demoniclonelysoul:demoniclonelysoul:demoni
demoniclonelysoul: flimsyatbest: demoniclonelysoul: demoniclonelysoul: demoniclonelysoul: demoniclonelysoul: So my battery died Tuesday night in the pub and I didn’t check my messages when i put in on charge before bed. The charger is also playing up so I didn’t open tinder because it’s a drain… Before this was a good conversation. We were going to meet on Sunday but I guess he can do that without my presence too. The fucking maams were new too otherwise I would have noped out earlier on. Oh and I did NOT recommend the Cardinal’s Ale because it’s Tom Woods and they make shite beer. Twat. Fucking what Whating fuck We talked for one evening. One. Evening. Whoa. I believe he has a million apologies typed out in advance and ready to go. But that’s not enough after he hurt you so deeply. Feelings are tough, man. Also his language was normal when were were chatting. This manic word vomit only just started. Yikes. And somehow, he found my Instagram -- source link
#fuckboys#nitishkrish1990#instagram