The night starts off all cuddly and kissy but as he starts to drift off (read: knock the Fuck out) it quickly turns into a game of Modern Warfare.
Cover stealing, human burrito rolling, limbs smacking you in the face, bed spread is completely on his side of the bed and you have to balance on the edge of the mattress because there is "No Mattress for Girlfriends".
You rifle through the closet in the dark (because you don't want to wake him.) Find a blanket and hit the couch (in yo own damn house smh....i thought you was a g homie).
I can't really complain though. It's good to have him back (I'll blog about the past three weeks when it's not so painfully fresh).
Aside from my dad and two of my uncles, he's the hardest working man I know. He deserves and needs the rest but damn homie. Scoot ovah!
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