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I found your “Woman Up” T-shirt and smiley-face panties in my dryer.
Ok, Detective. I confess. I might’ve humped the pillow you slept on while holding your panties in my hand.
Yep, I’m guilty as hell, and please, cuff me. (We’re doing that next time I see you, I swear).
Because I can’t stop thinking about you.
Because I miss you.
Because I love you.
You’ve been gone two weeks, and I couldn’t fly home, which sucks. I’ve been stuck here. I have great days thinking about you and horrible nightmares with you gone.
It’s like telling you unleashed something in me.
It was good for us because you wanted to know, and now we’re together.
But for me?
It’s haunting me even more.
It’s that tattoo.
The one of that mudflap girl.
It keeps flashing by the side of my face. It’s covered in sand. And then I scream out. The pain, my body remembers it. It’s a razor flame ripping my skin open. That’s when they cut me, I think.
The tattoo guy was holding me down and laughing. I remember that now. And your necklace, it was swinging from his neck.
Then I wake up, and I’m covered in sweat, but I reach over and hug your pillow, and I can survive another night.
I swear, Cade.
Only you make it okay.
You’re the only reason I believe in love.
Like I love my mom and sister. And my nephew, I love him so much. My favorite is building LEGOs with him.
BTW. Don’t freak out. But I want to marry you and have a mess of kids together. You’re a softie around babies. And to have one with you? Wow. My heart just jumped.
We’ve got a ways to go, but it’s all I want.
It’s the only thing I’m living for.
But for now, I gotta go to Atlanta.
Warning: this psycho-thriller film is gonna be a shitshow.
The cast did table reads this week before we shoot on location, and Angie was in rare form. She’s playing a housewife obsessed with me, her sister’s boyfriend and I swear she’s gonna win the fucking Oscar.
Because Angie is obsessed with me.
I can’t tell you because I know you’d snatch her bald if you knew.
She’s throwing a hissy fit over our ice cream video. That shit went viral, and Angie went ballistic. “I guess you’re Instagram official now,” she said, all jealous-like.
Fuck, it’s pathetic.
