You’re frustrating as hell. You’ll act one way one day, and then you’ll act completely different the next day. That’s why I can’t figure out how I feel about you. I don’t know if I want to kiss you or kill you.
You don’t make any sense.
One day, you act like you’re totally into me with your never-ending texts and flattering compliments. Then the following day, you won’t even return my phone calls or like my statuses. You keep sending me mixed signals, which is why one second I want to kiss you and the next second I want to kill you.
We have a lot of history.
That’s both a good thing and a bad thing. There are plenty of memories that make me want to drop my pants, but there are also memories that make me want to bash your head in.
I get turned on by strange things.
I wish I didn’t, but sometimes I like it when you act cocky or play hard to get. Sure, your superior attitude makes me want to kill you, but it also turns me on in a weird way. There’s something about your confidence that gets me going.
You’re no good for me.
I know that I deserve better, which is why I want to kiss your tight ass goodbye. Of course, you’re super sexy and fun to be around, so I keep putting off our inevitable goodbye. I have a thing for bad boys, which is why I alternate between wanting to kiss you and kill you.
There’s a thin line between love and hate.
I can’t stand some of the things that you do, but why would I care at all, unless I liked you? I obviously have some sort of feelings for you. That’s why I can’t stop myself from thinking about kissing you, even when you’re being a douchebag.
Your looks don’t match your personality.
When I catch a glimpse of the hot body hidden underneath your wife beaters, I want to jump into bed with you, but then you open your mouth and I completely change my mind. Your looks and your personality just don’t match up.
Lust messes up everything.
When I’m horny, all I want to do is climb on top of you. But after I orgasm, I go back to wanting nothing to do with you. My lust is getting in the way of my common sense.
I can’t tell what the right move is.
One second, you’re the man of my dreams and the next second, it’s like you came straight out of a nightmare. You’re so fickle that I can’t figure out whether walking away is best for me or if taking a chance on you is what I should do. It’s a gray area.
Love is confusing.
When we’re in the middle of a major fight, I know I should be thinking about all of the other men I could be seeing instead, but instead I’m thinking about how hot the makeup sex could be. After all, you look so hot when you’re angry.
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