I genuinely liked you. I really did. And that moment inside the cab? That was me wanting you to make a move on me. But you telling me I’m too competitive and shit just threw me off the table. Moving on.
There are days when I just couldn’t give a fuck to anything nor anyone except what I deliver to the table at work. I love that ineffable high when you have outdone, not the people around you but, yourself because you are your worst opponent. You are only good as your last project. Fuck it. I have never felt this driven in my entire life. World domination, you will be next.
I am a risky investment and I am very volatile so I highly suggest you start thinking of your next step. Because the slower you move, the faster my heart hardens. Not a threat. Only presenting facts.
Men don’t realize how sexy they become when they start blabbering about the things they are most passionate about whether it may be about sports, cooking and what not. And plus points if they’re older. Goddamnit.