The Lie We Called Love
I want raw passion, dark obsession, bone-chilling love—call me weird; I don't fucking care.
Unfortunately, my fiancé… Well… he's okay. He's what many would call a perfect man: good-looking, nice career, dollar bills in his bank account, but he just doesn't meet my expectations sometimes. He's too sweet, too lovey-dovey, and I like it, though it's nice… but.
*Sigh*
Despite that, I'm ready to spend the rest of eternity with him because, as they say, love is blind. Bonus: he's not a red flag.