A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn
New Moon Rising
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“Oh She don’t mind, she got the time, I see the new moon rising.” – New Moon Rising, Wolfmother.
First lunar week of the new year and how times change while things stay the same. I don’t want to be spending it over in Manhattan Maen territory, but I do want to be with my packmate, Paris, the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack leader.
Complications of being a beta werewolf and dating an Alpha werewolf. Complications of my love life. It’s never quite dull. But then, if it was dull you’d just call me me Snooki. And let’s face it, my hair is way better than hers. Werewolf, has perfect hair, that guy in the song, werewoles of London even agrees with that statement.
The moon does its thing for the week and a few days either side of full moon and the werewolves of New York do there’s. It’s how it’s been since as long as I can remember, ever since growing up and going out to the clubs in New York.
It’s a form of control. A way of making sure we’re not ferral werewolves, like there tend to be when there are solar eclipses. Because that’s when shit gets complicated beyond werewolves with feelings of love and jealousy and romance and everything else. That’s when you really want werewolves to exercise their control techniques.
But on a regular full moon night, it’s contained, it’s controlled, and there’s nothing to do with complicated if you know what to expect and how to deal with it. If you leave out all the relationship stuff.
Werewolves in love are a complicated beings.
Let me tell you
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Q) I just wanted to know, but if a werewolf dated a non, and are really close, are they allowed to tell their partner they’re a werewolf?
A) Hmmm. That is a tricky question. Werewolves have been known to date nons (non werewolves ie humans etc) before. Including this werewolf herself. Of course, that has never worked out for me (but more on that some other time).
Let me tell you, from my own personal experience I have never told any human I’ve dated, that I’m a werewolf. Ever. In fact the only person I’ve told outside of pack who is a ‘non’ is my friend Aimee. Who I’ve known for the last five years.
And even that was like a no-go zone. In the Breukelen Pack, it’s a standing ground rule that you NOT tell nons what you are. However, this rule has been broken more than once, by at least both myself and my sister that I can think of.
Even though the outcome both times, was eventually, good and recieved as to be expected. We both got reprimanded for our actions. We broke a basic pack rule. As decreed by the leading pack Alpha. The Alpha (wether he’s your father or not) must enforce the law/rules he decrees.So punishment can be varied but must be dolled out. At least, this is true of my pack. We’ve both been reprimanded for it.
Ideally, we’d like to be able to tell them.
But it depends on how your Alpha rules on this decision. If you were in a serious, long term, or close relationship, you might be able to present your case to the Alpha to be allowed to tell your partner that you’re a werewolf.
But first you’e got to have the guts to approach the Alpha on this dicey topic.
Then, you’ve got to have the guts to inform your partner, that you’re a werewolf.
Only the truly brave, enter into this heartfelt territory.
Tags: Aimee, Alpha decree, brave, identity, Nons, relationships, revealling, telling, werewolves
My Wolf
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In the dim light of the bedroom, we move together. Silent and eager for reconnection and touch. Outside the shutters, the wind whips the trees and cast elongating shadows into the room, flickered by moonlight.
Paris’s hands on my hips, his breath matching my own, before his mouth finds the skin of my neck and licks along the length of it as I arch further back towards him. Limited time for the good stuff before the shape shifting has to begin. But we were doing the best we can, given the short time span we have to be together like this again.
His hips dig in further, deeper into me as I sigh lightly at the touch of him inside me. Why hadn’t I wanted this before now? How could I possibly be without this? Passion is befuddling if anything. It sweeps you up and lets you coast along and makes you forget all other stuff, like sensibility. Reasoning. Or maybe it just puts it all into perspective. It has no problem drowning you in it, because while you’re drowning, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. It’s all you know and all you want to consume.
“My wolf.” He growls his voice getting huskier, into my ear, before nipping it with his still human teeth. “My wolf.”
And we keep moving.
His reaction to the words he says outloud is to pick up the pace even more. He likes saying those words and I like hearing them and being them.
When we’d gotten back to Paris’s place, I’d barely been clothed. Paris had pretty much stripped me in the doorway as he was unlocking the front door. Pesky house keys, delaying us, ever so slightly in our rush for gratification, and make up sex. Guess that’s why I was partially covered, by his jacket around my shoulders.
“Your wolf.” I grunt as my body soars and I start drowning in a haze of feelings that fill me. I’m wanted, I’m loved, and I belong. All with this werewolf behind me.
This werewolf is the one I should be focused on, the one that made my insides do flip flops in a good way. The one that made me really smile, the one that would be mine and mine alone.
It’s all he could handle, those two words. The touch of me beneath him, around him, with him. As he throws his head back and howls, a very wolf noise into the dim light, echoing around the room. From a human male body that is making love to me. A howl of joy and possession. A howl of happiness and unity.
A howl for me, because of me.
I’d howl too, but it’s hard when you’re breathless and I don’t want to wake the neighbors, if Paris hadn’t already. Normally he’s the one in control. Not the other way around.
“I want to shape shift with you now.” He mutters tiredly happy, flinging his arm across me as we disentangle.
I roll my head to the side, trying to get my breathing back under control, looking at him, laying on his back. He has a big grin over his face. His eyes closed, his chest rising and falling quickly.
He doesn’t have to.
Paris doesn’t technically, physically or even remotely have to want to shape shift until full moon. That would be the night he couldn’t resist. But he wants to complete this with me. A proper connection, a real reunion of us together. He wants to shape shift because I need to. He wants to do it for me, with me, to be with me in my true form. Because he loves that form, and that wolf as much as he loves the werewolf woman still panting on her back, entangled in the sheets on his bed.
“My wolf.” I mutter back at him.
Tags: being consumed, love, make up sex, moonlight, Paris, Passion, relationships, werewolf
Trainwreck
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I’m suddenly feeling nervous again. I start smoothing down my windswept hair and re-tying it back into a ponytail as I walk in smiling at the girl behind the register stamping wrists. She points me out to the bouncer at the very interior entrance who waves me through. They know I’m the Manhattan Maen Alpha’s pack partner. No queuing for me. And bonus points in they’re pay check for them for knowing who’s who in Werewolf world.
I walk inside slowly. Trying to keep my anxiousness at bay.
I stand there, not far from the entrance scoping out the club. Checking out the regular movement of bodies walking and talking, dancing and grinding. I walk a few steps further into the club and look around past the dance floor, at the booths and the glass cubicle rooms. I suppose he could be in one of those, but I’d have no way of knowing since they’re all frosted over. I’d need to ask someone. And I haven’t spotted anyone I really know from the Manhattan Maen pack, that well. I keep walking slowly, slightly transfixed by the heat and movement strobing my vision and senses. It feels better being in here, than it did, being in my room alone.
Then I spot what I came here for. Paris.
He’s sitting at a table surrounded by people. I can’t make out the ones with the back of their heads to me but I can make out Addison, Jules, Wiatt and between Wiatt and Paris is Gabby. I frown as she laughs at something the two brothers appear to be telling her. I feel a stab of jealousy and instantly start to wonder which one of them she’s gotten her claws into. On the other side of Paris is another of his hierarchy, who’s busy watching the girls near they’re table. Trying to chat them up, it appears.
I feel stuck. My throat is thick and I’m beginning to wonder if I should just turn and hightail it out of there, as Gabby leans over to Paris and puts her hand on his, on top of the table as she whispers in his ear.
Oh please, out of all the women and werewolves he could have slept with in anger at me, please don’t make it be her.
Gabby is a bitch.
Right now she’s a bitch in heat who looks like she’s playing both DÁrenberg males. She gets to be at the Alpha’s table, because next to Paris’s mother she’s the only female Alpha in the Manhattan Maen pack, in New York. That has ranking and respect inbuilt with it.
I think I’m gonna leave. But I keep watching like a train wreck that can’t quite stop.
Did he sleep with her? Would he even do that? Paris is not the bastard Conall is. I need to remember that.
Better guy. Best guy. Although he can be a very dark werewolf too.
It’s then that Paris senses me. His head whips around as he ignores Gabby completely and his eyes lock onto mine.
Gabby starts to frown as Paris stands up suddenly and pushes his way out from the table. Her head and the others at the table travel the line of her sight, following Paris’s movement as he walks towards me.
My feet start moving again, fast.
We stop a little short of each other. Not quite touching. But wanting. I can see him reel himself in. Reign in his control again. It’s only then that I wonder if he can smell Conall’s scent on my clothing. It’s not like I showered before I left Brooklyn, after that. There’s probably enough of his trace scent on my clothes to be noticed.
Shit.
I hope he doesn’t remember Conall’s scent. But of course he would. Please don’t let him think we did anything together.
If I ignore it, will he?
“I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome at your table.” I say lamely pointing to Gabby and the others, who are now, watching us like reality tv show addicts. He knows Gabby and I are not friends of any kind.
“You’re always welcome.” His smooth voice says to me as he looks at me, like he might break from the restraint and control he’s using from not rushing me.
“Don’t normally see Gabby at your table…”
“Well normally you’re there in her place.”
Uh oh. What did that mean? I’d been replaced? She was the pack partner now at least for visual purposes? The blood was pounding my head, rushing through my body with built up speed. Talk about worst case scenario. Was this really happening to me?
“I think Wiatt has a thing for her.”
I nodded my head as if understanding. But not really. I just don’t want her anywhere near Paris.
I can’t help it. I throw myself at him, my arms wrap around him and I’m up on my tip toes, my mouth on his, kissing him deeply. Hard and longingly. I feel himself wrap me up in him and suddenly his mouth is all over me, muttering against my skin about how much he missed me and then his mouth is back on mine and plundering mine and I’m pressing into him, like there is no better feeling in the world than the one I am in right now. Hot kisses scorch my skin and steal my breath and it’s all a heady rush. Eventually, in what seems like forever, we break for air, breathing heavily, looking hotly at one another, holding hands.
“I’m sorry.” I mutter quickly.
“Me too.” He replies.
“I was stupid.”
“Me too.” Paris replies. “I don’t want go through that again.” He says at me softly.
“Me too.” I reply smiling back at him. My heart beat is practically pounding my breast bone with fervor.
“Let’s get out of here, go somewhere more private.” Paris says winding his fingers through mine and whisking me out of there.
Tags: anxiety, conall, Gabby, lunar week, Manhattan, Paris, relationships, reunion, train wreck, werewolves, Wiatt
Vampires versus Werewolves
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So with the release of the new werewolf movie, The Wolfman, the interest in it seems to return to this mythic battle of can werewolves topple vampires for popularity in pop culture.
All because of Twilight.
I growl and groan inwardly at the thought of this.
What is it with popularity that even the werewolves are supposed to achieve?
Twilight is not rocket science, it worked because it has a massive tween/teen audience and it’s not so much about Vampires and mortal beings and other supernatural’s as it is about Love. The big first love of your life. The passion of being consumed by love. Please, tell me what teenager doesn’t at one point have a little dream and happy thought about that? Add to the mix pretty looking people and hello-cha-ching! Start counting your money, no matter how ludicrously weak the story line is.
The rivalry between vampires and werewolves, if you want to call it that is easy to break down. I’ve said it before, Vampires are considered romantic leads. Fans of vampires will look past their undead nature, what it means to lack a soul, a conscience and their manipulative habits. Because the myth of the vampire is ingrained in passion and at some point, they play that passion and that becomes all the fans of the vampire see or want. Add to that the whole, immortality thing and the idea of permanently being with the one you love and being loved for forever in return and that’s all that’s ever needed to sustain the vampire’s popularity. Lovers and fans of vampires can overlook everything else, including the bloodshed and blood thirsty nature of their servitude for survival.
Werewolves on the other hand, have never it would seem, overcome their ruthless beast like nature, their animal self.
They’ve never been given a chance to be imagined as romantic leads (in movies). Sure, Underworld; Rise of the Lycans tried, but ultimately failed, really the story wasn’t about the Lycans so much as it was about the history of the Vampires. As most movies would have you believe werewolf movies are made for terrorizing people, for showing violence, and bloodshed. They’re not designed for showing the wolf as a soft being of feeling.
It’s kind of like the reverse thing with the vampire.
Fans of the werewolf might be able to see all sides to the complexities of being a werewolf, but ultimately the film makers, only see the rough stuff, the exterior, everything but the ability for a werewolf to love or be loved and shown in a romantic light. Although OZ on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, sure did do a good job of that with his Willow relationship.
It’s been said that Bram Stoker, the author of Dracula created the intricate relationship of vampire and werewolf together. So maybe we can just blame the dead man for our standing as always being seen as second in this “relationship”.
Because it seems ever since then, in popular culture at least, both werewolves and vampires have been linked, hopelessly together and yet, so completely far apart and opposite from one another. If this is to be believed, then we can also blame Stoker for making werewolves, underlings.
After all, it was he who referred to werewolves as “Children”. One could take that as a slight.
“Listen to them, the children of the night, what music they make.”- Dracula, from Bram Stoker’s novel. Whilst having a vampire, Count Dracula to be exact, was the story of his novel. Which is hugely, gothically, romantic in nature.
Ah, the romance of the vampire is born.
Although I do not see werewolves in popular culture being second place to Vampires, I guess I just see us as being more subtle. Vampires are all about themselves, and being seen, because they arrogantly seem to think, they have enough power of their fans ie. Humans that they are therefore above them in the life-long scale of things.
Werewolves understand the nature of co-existing, by comparison and the why and how for. So you could say, reality is, we’re actually smarter than the vamps, so in terms of longevity, and popularity, who cares?
I guess it depends what you want out of your life. I can tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want someone who doesn’t have a heart beat, can’t feel warm against me, drinking my blood. Ewww.
Besides, popular culture, doesn’t actually represent what those of us of a “animal nature” or “blood thirsty” habit, know to necessarily be true. I sure know that! Read back through my blog and you’ll see that.
Tags: Bram Stoker, Dracula, gothic, life, popularity, relationships, romance, Twilight, vampires, versus, vs series, werewolves
Dog Day’s moon
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The Kanya Raasi moon, the virgo moon, the sturgeon moon, the green corn moon, dog day’s moon (personal favorite for the irony alone!), harvest moon, fruit moon, and women’s moon, moon when all things ripen.
These are just a few names given to the moon I was born under.
Yep I’m a Virgo werewolf.
My horoscope:
August is an average month for you due to your being born in the Kanya Raasi moon blah blah blah. Don’t expect much virgo girl. Cause that would be stupid.
Stupid horoscopes of indecision and lacking information for motivation. Why do I pay attention to them? Why let what someone else says dictate what I do? The only one who gets a remote say in that, and that would be my wolf.
Cause I’m twitchy, I get suspicious of everyone and everything a week before lunar week when everything’s not routine. When there are differences happening around me.
When you’re a werewolf you can sense changes in people, in particular other wolves, when you’re in close vicinity to them. The wolf senses tune into their blood pulse, heartbeat and fear. You hear it and you can smell it. Parts of mood, that change.
When we’re pup’s were taught how to use our snouts to scent things. There’s a great little game we get taught. Called “what am I?”
Oh the irony.
Anyway, the deal is, items with smells, scents if you will, are hidden from the pup. The pup has to track them, blindfolded using just their sense of scent. You become very fine tuned at it. So much so that as an adult most of us can pick at least ten scents at once when in a crowded situation.
The body omits more than you’d think. You know how people say they can smell “sex” in a room? Well it’s kind of like that, only to werewolves, more obvious. Fear is a distinct kind of scent and sensation all at once.
Add that to the body language and it’s a give away. The only thing you can confuse fear for, is lying. They’re very one and same, sometimes. Interchangeable. Depending on the personality it’s coming off.
I like to think I’m a very good judge of people’s character as a result of this, ability I have. For me, I guess it’s like a secret to my human friends and acquaintances. You could call it like X-ray vision. I’m better at picking up someone’s tell signs at a poker game than any behavioral scientist you see on TV. Helps when you hustle at Poker too.
Which I haven’t done a lot of, or you know, lately, so relax with the moral indignation already.
So something’s up.
Something’s coming along to greet me soon. I can feel the suspense sweeping me up like a dust storm. Whenever I’m around Conall at the moment, it’s just…wiry would be the best word to describe the atmosphere.
Why does he pretend to act like it’s all normal when he knows I’m fine tuned to his senses, the alerts his body sends out to me unconsciously that I can not only pick up so easy but can’t ignore when I notice them?
Guess I’ll have to suck it up and see.
Wait it out.
Meet it head on.
With him if I have to. Because that’s what I do.
Virgo is the sixth sign of the zodiac, its apparently the one that brings all the individual growth signs together to see all sides of the situation for the good of others.
Lunar week. Hmm, should be…intriguing then.
Tags: Dog Day's moon, Kanya Raasi moon, lunar week, relationships, the harvest moon, Virgo, werewolf
Welcome to my life
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You know it gets tricky when you’re censored on certain bits of information and you can only speak about half of the stuff you’d really like to explain.
Welcome to my life.
Life in the Breukelen Pack. Pack’s have structure, guidance, rules to govern behavior by. And of course with those processes in place, there is punishment for disobedience and disregard of them.
In New York City, it’s not a complete secret, just not publicly, widely acknowledged in the open, that there are five wolf packs. I come from the Breukelen, in Brooklyn, the third biggest of the five.
In having Aimee find out….about…me, us, them…all of it, it means I need to explain some things to her. It means she has questions and curiosities that she wants to know about and possibly a thing or two, that she needs to know about the whole sitch.
So what do I tell her? After all, I want to be honest, but I don’t want to freak her out any further.
After all, my first answer to her reaction upon finding out that I can dislocate my jaw and grow fur, was not a warm and fuzzy one. I said it was about self preservation and I wasn’t lying. All wolves, when pushed or threatened immediately have a response to defend ourselves, to go on the attack rather than be attacked. It’s highly instinctual and very much a part of being a werewolf. When you have to carry a secret that your life depends on in some way, you will do what you must to be able to live your life, as freely as possible.
Of course, what you consider freedom, might vary to other opinions. Hence why there are “Lone Wolves”.
What’s a lone wolf?
Okay, that one I can answer.
Pretty much what it sounds like, a single wolf without a pack. Who does not live in a pack structured environment and therefore has no regard for rules or regulations. They do as they please, when they please, however they please. Lone wolves can very much upset the carefully crafted balance of a pack structure. It’s why they’re not encouraged. Why they’re looked down upon by were-wolves.
So what am I allowed to tell her about this new world she’s only just opened her eyes to?
Only certain bits, the bits that my Alpha and father has approved for me to speak of. So I have to start my next conversation piece with Aimee saying, please understand I don’t want to be dishonest with you, but I can’t tell you everything there is to know about my life. I just can’t.
Yeah, that’ll go down well, right. Isn’t that as bad as lying? Like why bother saying anything if she’s still not going to have enough information to satisfy things between us?
Well, I guess it comes back to, this isn’t really about her, it’s about me.
Self preservation.
So does knowing or not knowing all this stuff about me, affect where I stand in her life?
Why would it?
Yes, I have questions of my own too. Ah, let the head tripping commence.
Like I said, welcome to my life.
Tags: Aimee, Alpha, Breukelen, Brooklyn, friendship, headtripping, life, lone wolf, relationships, were wolf pack, were-wolf
Question
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So it doesn’t stop there.
Aimee’s established with me that she’s okay about, things, about us. We can still be friends.
But there are questions, more questions.
Always, with the questions.
She was just being respectful of me considering the news I’d had to deliver that I’m part pet, as well as human.
Her first question to me, was is Lycanthropy a disease?
I say it’s Hollywood’s attempt at movie magic to elicit sympathy for it’s characters. Honestly not trying to be trivial here. But explaining something as ingrained as your identity to someone is hard.
As far as I’m aware of, maybe it started out that way, but from what I’ve always been told and read about it, it’s a gene. A “were”gene. Which has evolved and now somewhere along the lines, the gene has started to regress again.
Because birth rates amongst were-wolves are lower than previous decades. Yes, were-wolves it would appear, are a dying breed, so to speak.
If current birthing trends continue, we will be just another race that breeds out.
Means, I guess, that the only wolves then around, aren’t shape shifters, they are natural born wolves. Just wolves that are animals, you know the ones you see in the wild.
I don’t find it easy to talk about all this stuff, especially when her curiosity just makes me feel like a freak show.
So more Q& A’s later, some other time.
Tags: Hollywood, life, Lycan, questions, relationships, Shape shifter, were-wolf, wolf
Shorty
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Turns out, while I’ve been avoiding having this talk with her, that Aimee’s curiosity has gotten the better of her.
She went all detective on me and she started asking around, making enquiries.
It was simple really, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.
She just started off where we left off. She started with The Reflex. She just asked a few questions about that night. Staff there just told her what they tell everyone who enquires. For a certain week of the month, lunar week, the club has a strict membership only policy. That’s they’re standard line. I’ve heard it before.
What they wouldn’t have told her is the membership is designed for wolves to be able to come out and play, and keep everything under control without hurting anyone. Of course there are a select few humans allowed around, but they have to be guests vouched for by at least two wolves. They become the wolves responsibility in the club.
All she had to hear was the word “Lunar” and she made the connection easily enough.
“So you’re a Lycan?” She asked me outright, without blinking or taking her eyes off my face.
My less than stellar response “Uh, we just call ourselves were-wolf’s.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
How do I answer that one? It’s a damn good question.
“Self preservation.” I said the words before I even realized I said it.
“You mean, you didn’t trust me enough, to tell me this important thing about you.” Aimee fired back angrily.
No.
“We’ve been friends for five years . Five years! I would have thought you’d have figured out, I could be trusted. Have I ever done anything for you to not trust me?”
No.
“To think I would ever deliberately hurt you?”
No.
“Do you find such little value in our friendship that you can’t share this with me, when I tell you everything about my life?”
No.
“Where you ever going to tell me?”
No.
Suddenly I’m realizing something I didn’t think of before, this really isn’t about Breukelen Girl werewolf, freak. It’s about her and who I am, to her. Does this rock the foundations of some image of me she’s built up in her head? I think it does. We sat in awkward silence for a good three minutes. Which stretched out, felt like forever in a room of tension. Till I broke it.
“If the situation were reversed what would you have done?”
Her face went pink. Her mouth tightened.
Yeah, I thought the same.
“I’m hurt that you kept this from me.”
“Why? It’s not like I go around telling everyone I’m friends with, hey once a month I turn into a howling fur ball because I have no say in the matter. So don’t hunt down any wild stray dogs, it might be me in disguise.
“That’s so not the point.”
“Then what is?” I yelled at her, not realizing I’d raised my voice until she kind of looked at me with surprise. I’ve never been the loose your temper type of person. But if you’re going to be under attack for being who you are, you may as well get to the heart of the problem and roaring at someone kind of gets there faster.
“Does this change who I am?”
No!
“Strawberry ice-cream with real strawberries is still my favorite, I still enjoy listening to punk-rock music, watching bad reality TV shows, and I’m still sleeping with Conall, I still have no car, I still live at home with my parents, and I’m still only five foot eight inches tall.”
She cranked an eyebrow up at me.
Just the one.
“So it doesn’t give you any special powers to speak of?”
“Well there are benefits. Heightened hearing, night vision, accurate sense of smell, tracking abilities, speed, accelerated healing for health problems. Fast metabolism, Higher immunity to most health problems…it varies from wolf to wolf, depending on whether you’re a beta or an Alpha, pack lines your come from, that kind of thing… same as with human races, really…”
“But you’re still only five foot eight?”
I stared at her. Hard.
“That’s what you got out of all that?”
She was starting to smile.
I let out a heavy breath and felt some tension leave my body. Shook my head as I tried to hide a laugh. I was holding onto reservation about feeling like things were going to be good between us.
“Say it. Say the thing.”
“What?”
She was smirking at me. Totally diffusing my try hard build up of defensive anger.
Aimee’s five foot nine and there’s this thing she always says to rile me up, when we’re comparing body issues and the like.
“Okay, being tall is everything.”
Big smug smile at me.
“Are we good here? Considering your height challenging statement’s authority on matters of everything?” I asked.
“Yeah, Shorty, we’re good.”
Tags: Aimee, Alpha, friends, friendship, Hard Talk, life, Lycan, People, relationships, Shorty, The Reflex, were-wolf, werewolf, wolf
My version of being tough
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You know there were a few things going through my mind when I was rocking up to Aimee’s place to talk to her.
The look on the Alpha’s face when I told him she knew because she had seen me, after a shift, yet I don’t know if she saw me shift.
Sayings, about how to pep myself up, get some false courage.
But mostly I was thinking “here we go again.” this is spring break 1997 all over again. Wait for the disgust, the revulsion. Whatever you do, don’t break the hell down.
No tears in front of her, NO MATTER WHAT!
In fact, if she starts going on about monsters, than give her a god damn monster to be frightened of! – my version of being tough.
Better than crying, surely?
Turns out I didn’t really have to worry about any of that stuff after all.
I didn’t even get to into my well rehearsed prepared speech for her.
Aimee did it for me.
I’m still in a bit of shock.
Tags: Aimee, friendship, Hard Talk, life, monsters, relationships, spring Break, tough
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Altijd Breukelen- I’m a Breukelen. Altijd.
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