LizzyClay

Do I confess something? I sometimes imagine that we are two strangers who meet in a bar. You ask me my name as if you didn’t know it, and I pretend that I haven’t wanted to hear your voice snoring near my ear for years. We play to lie, that this is not pl
The special thing is not what excites me, but how I have learned to integrate it into my life without drama. When I come home after a bad day: I light a candle, put on those heavy earrings that my ex gave me, and for an hour, let the fantasy be stronger than reality.