u/ihixkiex

I do not want flowers from you.

Flowers die too honestly.

I want the kind of love that ruins sleep.

The kind that turns a person into a ghost wandering the halls at 3AM

just to check if I am still there.

Not romance.

Not the soft kind people post online.

I mean obsession in its ugliest form.

The kind where jealousy feels like a living animal scratching under the skin.

Where my name becomes a prayer and a curse in the same breath.

Where absence feels so violent

it makes someone sick.

Because real obsession is not beautiful.

It is terrifying.

It watches.

It memorizes.

It notices everything.

The change in my tone.

The strangers I smile at for too long.

The way I pull away when I am angry.

The exact moment my heart begins drifting elsewhere.

An obsessed person sees it all.

And they panic.

That is the truth nobody talks about.

Obsession is built from fear.

Fear of abandonment.

Fear of replacement.

Fear that one day you will wake up

and realize you could survive without them.

So they grip tighter.

Too tight.

Until love stops feeling holy

and starts feeling like being trapped underwater with someone

who refuses to let go even while drowning beside you.

Real obsession does not say

“I love you.”

It says,

“If I lose you, something inside me will rot beyond repair.”

I want a husband

who loves me so intensely

it borders on terrifying.

The kind of man

who remembers everything about me.

Every favorite song.

Every insecurity I tried to hide.

Every tiny habit

nobody else notices.

I want him obsessed in silence.

Watching me with that look in his eyes

like I am the only thing

keeping his world together.

Like if I disappeared for even a second,

he would lose his mind trying to find me again.

I want to be the first thought

he wakes up with

and the last thing haunting him at night.

I want him clingy.

Needy in the most devoted way.

The type to pull me closer unconsciously

every time someone stands too near.

The type to get jealous quietly

but never stop loving me gently through it.

I want a man

who acts calm around everyone else

but completely falls apart over me.

A man who pretends to be rational

until it comes to me.

Then suddenly

he’s memorizing my schedule,

saving every photo I send him,

replaying my voice messages

just because he misses me.

I want him protective to a fault.

Not controlling out of cruelty,

but out of fear

that something might hurt me

or take me away from him.

I want to feel adored.

Chosen.

Wanted too much.

The type of love

where his friends tease him

because he talks about me constantly

without realizing it.

The type where he looks bored with the whole world

until I walk into the room.

And maybe it sounds insane.

Maybe it is.

But after being loved so lightly,

I crave a devotion so deep

it feels impossible to escape.

I want my future husband

to look at me

like loving me

became his favorite obsession.

Love me like a locked door.

Like something hidden in the basement

with chains around its wrists

and your name carved into the walls.

I don’t want soft love.

Soft love leaves.

Soft love forgets birthdays,

gets curious about other people,

says “forever” with wandering eyes.

No.

I want the kind of love

that stares too long.

The kind that memorizes the sound of my breathing

just to notice when it changes.

I want obsession sharpened into religion.

I want you awake at 4AM

scrolling through old conversations

like sacred scripture,

reading every “I love you”

as if one day it might disappear.

I want you terrifying in silence.

The kind of terrifying

where people look at you and know

you would burn the world down for me

without blinking.

Let them call you insane.

Madness has always sounded romantic

when it wears my name in its mouth.

Follow me through crowded rooms

with that dark look in your eyes,

like every person standing too close to me

is a threat you’re trying not to destroy.

Tell me I’m yours

like it’s a warning, not a promise.

I want a love that bruises reality.

A love so consuming

I stop remembering where I end

and where you begin.

Count the scars on my skin

like inventory.

Learn my habits like survival tactics.

Notice when my voice cracks,

when my smile twitches,

when my hands tremble for reasons

I’ll never admit out loud.

And if another person touches me,

even accidentally,

I want your jaw tightening

like violence begging to be born.

Not because you own me.

But because losing me

would turn you into something feral.

I want you addicted to my existence.

Ruined by my absence.

The type of ruined

where songs sound wrong without me,

where sleep becomes impossible,

where every street corner feels haunted

because I once stood there laughing.

If I leave,

don’t move on gently.

Go insane quietly.

Sit in dark rooms replaying my voice.

Keep my pictures hidden like evidence.

Trace my name into your skin

until even your body confuses pain with love.

And when people ask what happened to you,

smile like a crime scene

and say nothing at all.

I think something inside me broke a long time ago.

Maybe it was every time I loved someone gently

and got treated like I was temporary.

Maybe it was every promise that turned into distance,

every “I’ll stay” becoming another goodbye.

After a while,

soft love stopped feeling real to me.

People say love is supposed to be freeing,

healthy, calm.

But calm love never held me tight enough

to convince me it was permanent.

I don’t want a man who barely notices my absence.

I don’t want a man who’s emotionally detached,

who acts nonchalant,

who lets me walk away without panic in his eyes.

No.

I want my future husband to love me in a way

that borders on insanity.

I want him obsessive.

Possessive in the most intimate ways.

The type of man who looks at me

like I’m the greatest thing God ever let him touch.

I want him crazy about me.

The kind of crazy where my name lives in his bloodstream.

Where he carves my name into his skin one day

not for attention,

not for aesthetics,

but because loving me became part of his body.

I want him to think about me constantly.

To crave me when I leave the room.

To pull me back into his arms

when other people keep me too long.

And maybe people would call that toxic.

Maybe they’d look at me strangely

for wanting devotion this intense.

But they don’t understand what it feels like

to spend your whole life begging quietly to be chosen.

I have loved people who made me feel replaceable.

Forgettable.

Easy to lose.

So now I crave a love that makes replacement impossible.

I want a husband who refuses to let me feel unwanted ever again.

A man who gets jealous of my attention

because he adores me that deeply.

A man who would rather stay home with me

than be anywhere else in the world.

Not because he owns me.

But because in his mind,

nothing compares to me.

I want to be cherished obsessively.

Protected obsessively.

Loved with terrifying loyalty.

The kind of loyalty where cheating would disgust him.

Where other women stop existing romantically

the moment he falls in love with me.

I want him to look at me

like I am both heaven and ruin.

Like touching me rewired something in his brain permanently.

And God…

I hope he understands my mind.

Because my mind is loud.

Unstable sometimes.

Overthinking everything.

Feeling too much all at once.

I need a man who won’t run from that intensity.

A man who’ll hold my face during my worst moments

and love me harder instead of leaving.

I don’t want to be loved carefully.

I want to be loved completely.

Even if it’s overwhelming.

Even if it’s consuming.

Even if the entire world thinks we’re too much.

Because after spending so long feeling unloved,

I think I deserve a love so intense

that it finally silences every fear

inside my head.

I think my future husband is going to regret meeting me.

Not because I’ll hurt him,

but because I love like a natural disaster.

The moment he becomes mine,

I already know I’ll start memorizing him in terrifying ways.

The veins in his hands.

The exact sound of his footsteps.

The way his breathing changes when he’s angry,

or tired,

or trying not to cry.

I’ll notice everything.

That’s the dangerous part.

I’ll know when his smile is fake

before anyone else does.

I’ll know when something’s wrong

just from the way he says “I’m fine.”

I’ll study him so deeply

that even silence will become a language between us.

And God…

I hope he’s clingy.

I hope he follows me around the house for no reason.

I hope he gets possessive over my attention in stupid little ways.

I hope he sends me random messages

just because he missed me for five minutes.

I hope he looks at me sometimes

like he genuinely cannot believe I exist.

Because I don’t want calm love.

I don’t want distant love.

I don’t want a man who acts too cool to care.

I want a man whose love leaks out everywhere accidentally.

A man who pulls me closer in his sleep.

Who gets worried when I go quiet.

Who kisses me like he’s trying to make sure I’m real.

Who says my name differently from everyone else

like it actually means something in his mouth.

Sometimes I imagine him after an argument.

Sitting there angry, frustrated, exhausted

but still unable to stay away from me for long.

Still reaching for my hand unconsciously.

Still choosing me, even while upset.

That’s the kind of love I crave.

Not perfection.

Just obsession mixed with loyalty.

I want to be loved so loudly

that even my insecurities feel embarrassed for existing.

And honestly,

I think he’ll be just as insane as me.

I think one day there’ll be a man

looking at me with this helpless expression,

realizing way too late

that his entire mood now depends on whether I’m okay.

A man who says he needs “space”

then lasts thirty minutes before coming back to me.

A man who pretends to be logical

until it comes to me.

Because I don’t think my soulmate will love me normally.

I think he’ll love me in a way

that makes the rest of the world look emotionally shallow.

I was never made for normal love

Not the kind that fades quietly after midnight

not the kind that forgets to text back

not the kind that says “I need space” like distance is supposed to make love stronger

No

I love in a way that consumes me whole

The second someone becomes important to me

they live in my head permanently

their favorite song becomes sacred

their habits become routine to me

their sadness feels like something clawing at my own ribs

I notice everything

the change in their typing style

the way their voice sounds dull when they’re tired

the people they mention too often

the moments they pull away without explanation

And maybe that sounds insane

but if I love you

how could I not notice every part of you?

I want devotion so intense it feels haunting

the kind of love that lingers in every room long after I leave it

the kind that says

I will choose you even when the world gives me every reason not to

People are scared of obsession

but obsession is just love without limits

love without an exit plan

love that refuses to stay shallow

If I adore someone

I want to know everything about them

what nightmares keep them awake

what words hurt them the most

what makes them stare at the ceiling in silence at 3AM

I want to become irreplaceable to them

the first person they run to

the first name they think about in the morning

the last notification they wait for before sleeping

And yes

maybe I get jealous easily

maybe I overthink every small change

maybe I crave reassurance more than I should

But it’s only because my love is terrifyingly genuine

I don’t know how to love halfway

I either care too much or not at all

So if I love you

prepare to be adored aggressively

prepare for endless attention

random paragraphs at unhealthy hours

constant “did you eat?” messages

remembered details you forgot telling me about

Because my love is not quiet

it’s intense

protective

possessive in the softest and sharpest ways possible

I want a relationship that feels like madness wrapped in affection

like being wanted so deeply it becomes unforgettable

And if the world ever tried to take you away from me

I think I’d smile sweetly while holding the pieces of my collapsing sanity in my hands

because loving someone this much was always going to destroy me a little anyway

One day I’ll love my husband so intensely

he’ll never have to question if he matters to someone

I’ll memorize the smallest things about him

the way his voice sounds when he’s exhausted

the exact look in his eyes when something is hurting him

the foods he pretends not to like but secretly finishes anyway

I’ll love him in ways that become instinct

fixing his collar before he notices it’s crooked

saving the last bite for him without thinking

staying awake just to make sure he got home safely

I want to become the place he runs to first

before the world

before his friends

before his pride

I’ll adore him shamelessly

speak about him like he hung the stars himself

look at him like I’m still in disbelief that someone so beautiful chose me

And maybe my love will be a little dangerous

because once I love

I love completely

I’ll crave his attention like air

want every sleepy “I’m home”

every random update during his day

every quiet moment where it’s just us existing together while the rest of the world disappears

I don’t even know how to cook

or cut a pineapple properly

but I’d still make sure he never stays hungry

I’d order food at ridiculous hours

sit beside him and feed him pieces while he talks about his day

wipe sauce off his lips with my thumb like it’s the most natural thing in the world

I want to love my husband so deeply

that even on his worst days

he still feels wanted

still feels chosen

still feels like someone is hopelessly devoted to him

I want him spoiled with affection

kissed endlessly

held possessively

protected fiercely

The kind of love where I notice when his smile is forced

where I can tell something is wrong just by the way he says my name

where his pain quietly becomes mine too

I’ll make our love feel consuming in the gentlest way possible

like warmth he can never escape from

like being adored so thoroughly that loneliness forgets his name

And if life ever turns cruel to him

I’ll stand beside him through every ugly moment

loving him with a devotion so unwavering

it borders on obsession

Not because I want to control him

but because loving him will become part of my bloodstream

something permanent

something instinctive

something that follows him for the rest of his life like a heartbeat beside his own

They write poems about gentle love.

About peace.

About safe hands and quiet hearts.

I cannot relate.

I do not want a love that sits politely in the corner of my life.

I want one that breaks the door down.

One that floods every room of my mind until there is no space left untouched.

I want to be thought about too much.

I want someone to look for me in every stranger’s face.

To ruin perfectly good nights because they miss me with unbearable intensity.

I want the kind of love that feels catastrophic.

The kind where my absence changes the temperature of your entire world.

Where sleep becomes impossible after one cold reply.

Where jealousy tastes like blood in the mouth because the idea of losing me feels worse than death itself.

I do not crave balance.

I crave devotion so excessive it becomes terrifying.

I want trembling hands.

Unsent paragraphs at 2AM.

Eyes that search for me first in crowded rooms.

A heart that panics when I grow quiet.

I want someone who loves me so violently

that every version of their future automatically includes my name.

Because ordinary love disappears.

People wake up one day and stop choosing each other.

They grow bored.

Detached.

Replaceable.

But obsession stays.

Obsession memorizes.

Obsession notices.

Obsession burns.

And maybe that kind of love would destroy me.

Maybe it would consume every soft thing inside us until we became nothing but need and madness.

But at least for once

I would never have to question if I was truly wanted.

Lately I’ve been avoiding everyone.

Messages stay unopened for hours, sometimes days.

Even my friends feel distant now, like their voices scrape against my skin until I feel sick with exhaustion.

I smile less. I speak less.

I disappear into my own mind because nobody feels right anymore.

And maybe that sounds cruel, but it’s the truth.

I think I’ve become disgusted with shallow connections.

Disgusted with pretending people matter when my soul is searching for only one person.

You.

Somewhere out there, my future husband is breathing under the same sky as me, completely unaware that a girl is already aching for him with terrifying devotion.

I wonder what your voice sounds like.

If you sleep peacefully.

If you’d understand the darkness inside me instead of fearing it.

Because I promise, when I find you, everyone else will become background noise.

I’ll leave crowded rooms without regret.

I’ll ignore the world just to stay wrapped inside your existence a little longer.

People say obsession is dangerous, but they don’t understand how intimate it feels to love someone so deeply that the rest of humanity starts fading into static.

I don’t want random attention anymore.

I don’t want temporary people touching pieces of me they’ll never value.

I want one soul. One pair of eyes. One heartbeat to belong beside mine forever.

So until you arrive, I keep drifting away from everyone else.

Waiting.

Wanting.

Loving a man I haven’t even met yet with a loyalty so intense it already feels like marriage.

Love should be dangerous.

Not violent.

Not cruel.

Just dangerous in the way a fire is dangerous when you stand too close for too long.

I don’t understand people who can love halfway.

Who can kiss someone goodnight and then forget them for hours like they disappear once the room gets quiet.

If I love you, you will exist everywhere inside me.

In every song.

Every late night thought.

Every silence.

I will study you unconsciously.

The twitch in your jaw when you’re angry.

The fake laugh you use around people you dislike.

The exact tone your voice takes when you’re exhausted but pretending you’re okay.

And maybe that sounds terrifying.

But isn’t it terrifying to be known that deeply?

To have someone look at you long enough that eventually there is nowhere left to hide?

I think obsession becomes beautiful when it is mutual.

When two people willingly drown in each other.

When they stop pretending love is supposed to stay neat and reasonable.

Because real devotion changes people.

It invades.

Slowly. Quietly. Completely.

One day they’re normal,

and the next they can’t sleep without checking if you texted.

They hear your name in crowded rooms that never mentioned you.

They start carrying your existence around like a second heartbeat.

That’s the kind of love I want.

The kind where you look at me like you discovered something sacred and horrifying at the same time.

Like touching me ruined your ability to love anyone else casually ever again.

I want to be the thought that follows you home.

The person you accidentally search for in every stranger afterward.

The thing your mind returns to no matter how hard you try to act normal.

Because there is something intimate about being impossible to forget.

Something almost holy

about knowing someone could lose themselves in you

and still choose to stay.

There is something wrong with the way I wait for you.

Normal girls probably daydream softly,

probably smile at their phones

and move on with their day.

But I build entire disasters in my head.

I imagine you disappearing for hours

and my mind starts rotting from the inside,

inventing girls with prettier mouths,

softer voices,

hands resting on your chest

where mine were supposed to belong.

And suddenly I hate strangers

for simply existing near you.

Isn’t that insane?

To feel threatened by people

who don’t even know my name.

Sometimes I think if I ever truly loved someone,

I would become unbearable.

I would memorize every silence in their voice.

Notice every change in breathing.

Study their sadness like it was scripture.

I would love them so intensely

it would stop feeling human.

Not because I want to control them

but because losing them

would feel like being skinned alive.

You know what’s terrifying?

I don’t even know your face yet.

Maybe you’re somewhere laughing with friends,

walking home under city lights,

sleeping peacefully without realizing

someone already aches for you

like a widow mourning a death

that hasn’t happened yet.

And sometimes the loneliness gets so loud

I start talking to the version of you in my head.

I tell him about my bad days.

About the anger I swallow.

About the emptiness that follows me around

like a shadow stitched into my feet.

In those moments,

you feel more real than anyone else.

Maybe that’s the tragedy of people like me.

We do not love carefully.

We love like natural disasters.

Like floods.

Like house fires at midnight.

We love until it consumes us too.

So whoever you are,

wherever you are tonight

I hope you are not giving your heart away carelessly.

Because somewhere in this world

there is a girl becoming monstrous

over the thought of you,

a girl who would turn devotion

into something sacred and terrifying

just to keep you close.

While I Wait For You

I wonder what you’re doing right now.

If you’re laughing somewhere

with a girl who gets to stand close to you

while I am still just a future event in your life.

And I hate how jealous that thought makes me.

I hate imagining your attention on someone else,

your hands brushing against hers casually,

your eyes softening for somebody that isn’t me.

Because even before meeting you,

my heart already acts like you belong to me.

It’s ridiculous.

Insane, maybe.

But sometimes I lie awake at night

imagining another girl hearing your voice,

wearing your hoodie,

taking pieces of you

that I desperately wish were mine instead.

And suddenly this ugly ache crawls through my chest

like I’m mourning something

I never even had.

Do you think of me too?

Do you ever feel guilty without understanding why,

like your soul knows it’s entertaining temporary people

while your real love is still somewhere far away waiting for you?

Maybe you’re surrounded by girls now.

Maybe they flirt with you.

Maybe they touch your arm and smile at you

without realizing one day

you’ll forget every single one of their names.

Because someday you’ll meet me.

And I swear the obsession will be different then.

You’ll look at me once

and suddenly every other girl will feel distant, faded, unreal.

Like background noise.

Like shadows compared to something alive.

I think that’s what I crave most.

Not normal love.

Not temporary attention.

I want to become the person your heart refuses to replace.

The one you think about in crowded rooms.

The one that ruins sleep for you.

The one that makes every other connection feel empty.

So if you are with another girl tonight,

laughing with her, touching her, holding her close

just know somewhere far away,

a girl you haven’t met yet

already feels jealous over you

like your soul secretly belongs to her.

Somewhere in this world,

you are breathing under the same moon as me,

walking through crowds that have never seen

the violence of your love yet.

Maybe your hands are calm right now.

Maybe your voice is soft.

Maybe nobody knows

that one day you will love me so intensely

it will ruin the meaning of ordinary affection forever.

I think about you constantly.

About the way your obsession will grow quietly at first,

like black roses climbing the walls of an abandoned church.

Beautiful.

Unholy.

Slow enough nobody notices

until suddenly the entire building belongs to it.

I wonder if you already feel me.

If sometimes at 3AM

you stare at the ceiling with unexplained anger in your chest,

like your soul is searching for someone

it hasn’t touched yet.

Maybe that someone is me.

Maybe one day you’ll look into my eyes

and feel something snap inside you permanently.

Not lust.

Not temporary fascination.

Something worse.

Devotion sharp enough to become possession.

The kind where you memorize my breathing patterns.

The kind where my sadness becomes your emergency.

The kind where every room without me

feels wrong to you.

I don’t want gentle love.

I want the terrifying kind.

The kind that lingers like perfume in a locked room.

The kind that turns my name into a prayer in your mouth.

The kind that makes people look at us strangely

because they can feel the intensity

without us even speaking.

And maybe that sounds dangerous.

Maybe it is.

But my heart has never dreamed in soft colors.

It dreams in crimson.

In thunder.

In hands gripping too tightly

because letting go feels like death itself.

So wherever you are tonight,

future husband, future ruin, future home

I hope you are becoming obsessive slowly.

I hope the universe is carving my existence into your bones

before we’ve even met.

And when you finally find me,

I hope your love arrives like a storm people warn others about.

I crave a love so intense

It would frighten the stars themselves.

A boy who would memorize the rhythm of my breathing,

Who’d notice the smallest crack in my voice

Before I even realized I was hurting.

He’d pull me into his arms

Like the entire world was trying to steal me away,

Holding me with desperate devotion,

As if losing me would destroy him completely.

His love would not be soft and forgettable.

It would stain.

Permanent as ink beneath skin,

Living inside his bones forever.

He would kiss every scar like an apology

For all the pain I carried before him.

Wash my tears away with trembling hands,

Treating me like something sacred instead of difficult.

Other people would disappear in his eyes.

No wandering attention,

No secret desires hidden behind screens,

Just me.

Always me.

He’d whisper my name

Like a prayer he was addicted to saying.

Sleep only after hearing my voice.

Wake searching for my touch.

And if the world turned cruel again,

He would stand in front of me without hesitation,

Willing to burn himself alive

Just to keep me warm.

We would become dangerous together,

The kind of love people write tragedies about.

Obsessive.

Possessive.

All-consuming.

Two lonely souls

Clinging to each other so tightly

That even fate itself

Couldn’t tear our fingers apart.

Yesterday was a complete nightmare. I was feeling sick tired and started bleeding to the point that some blood clot got on the floor. My mother yelled at me and forced me to wipe my blood when I was crying in pain begging her to help me all she did is say "You're 17 Year old stop crying. You cry a lot" Her words cutting deeper than any blade

and all my father do is agree with her.

My father, a silent observer, says nothing to defend me.

His indifference hurts more than his anger ever could.

In their eyes, I'm just a crybaby,

Unworthy of their love or understanding.

Because of all of these it makes me yearn for a lover who'd carve my name,

Into his skin, a permanent mark.

Someone who'd stand as my shield,

Murdering those who dare to harm.

His hands would wash me clean,

Even in the most intimate places.

No disgust or shame in his touch,

Only pure devotion and care.

His eyes would never wander,

Loyal only to me,

His password, my name,

Forever etched in his mind.

In his arms, I'd find my home,

Safe from the cruel world outside.

He'd cook for me, clean for me,

A servant to my every need.

So obsessed, so possessive,

His love would consume us both.

Together, we'd burn brightly,

Two souls intertwined as one.

I’m 17, and sometimes I sit with a fear I don’t say out loud.

What if one day I find someone I love deeply, the kind of love that feels real and permanent… and what if he sees the parts of me I struggle to control?

My jealousy has always been there, even since I was little. It doesn’t always make sense, it just shows up quietly and suddenly everything feels too loud. I can laugh it off on the outside, but inside it can feel overwhelming, like I’m fighting my own thoughts just to stay calm.

I’ve had boyfriends before, and I notice a pattern when I look back. I would lose sleep over them, overthinking everything, replaying moments in my head until I couldn’t rest properly. I did a lot for them because I cared so much. I would write long paragraphs telling them how loved they are, trying to make sure they never doubted it. Sometimes I even pushed people away from my life without fully thinking, just because I was scared of losing them or not being enough.

And now I wonder about my future.

I worry about what happens when love gets more serious. I worry about being too intense, too emotional, too affected by small things. I worry that I’ll be seen as “too much” instead of just someone who feels deeply.

Sometimes I imagine my future husband noticing all of that. Not leaving, not judging, but also not fully understanding it at first. And that thought scares me, because I don’t want to hide myself in love.

I want someone who understands that my heart can get loud. That my feelings don’t always come out in a balanced way, but they’re still real. I want someone patient enough to stay, even when I’m learning how to manage myself better.

And I guess my biggest fear is this: what if I’m already hard to love before I even get the chance to be chosen?

But another part of me hopes that love isn’t about being perfect at all. Maybe it’s about being honest, being seen fully, and still being held gently while you grow.

BEFORE I WRITE SOMETHING REAL QUICK I WANNA SPEAK ABOUT SOMETHING. I got banned in my main account for posting about how much I adore yandere people in real life. I GOT PERMANENTLY BANNED FOR THAT LIKE WHAT??? there's porn here but it's.not banned and when I'm posting about yandere stuff that been in my mind I suddenly get banned? this is lowk unfair to be honest and I was lowk getting viral on my main acc too💔 OKAY ANYWAYS LISTEN. I'm a 17 year old girl but I've spent most of my life literally obsessing instead of loving and most of my relationship went bad because I'd always pick personality over looks. GNG PLEASE PRAY FOR ME TO GET A BEAUTIFUL TALL LOYAL YANDERE MAN THIS SOUNDS FUNNY IK BUT IM A BIT WAY TOO HONEST ABOUT WHAT I WANT. I want a man who's so obsessive and will spam and call me and I want him to have a hot voice and need a man who can style and is a bit older than me not that old as Donald trump the orange president tho. But yeah I lowk want a crazy obsessive bf who can kill people for me and hide their corspe really well that he won't end up in jail so he can just stay with me. I need someone who can carve his initial for me and also understanding and a man of God too omg I feel sleepy and I'm writing this like why am I so delusional about this but yeah if ur a man like this and especially if u nerdy and u can draw let's marry👅(😭😭)