|Third bitch in from the left.|
The thing is, I don't care how much I like you; I never want to spend the night at your house. You could be my best friend. We could be related. I don't care; I still don't want to. I could want to sleep with you and still not want to sleep with you, you see what I'm saying?
The mere suggestion that I stay at your house makes me my heart beat at an irregular rate. And not in a like, I'm so excited, I have butterflies kind of way. More like, I'm so anxious about the thought of sleeping at your house that I'm going to throw up right here and right now.
You're welcome to sleep at my house. You're welcome to sleep in my bed, even. [That's a lie and not an open invitation. And also, if you do sleep in my bed, be prepared to wake up to my cat lying on your stomach and/or staring you down (not sure if that's either terrifying or hilarious, but it's definitely the reason why I'm single).] But just be prepared that I am not sleeping at yours. If in the off-chance I do, I will not actually sleep at any point. I will roll around. I'll go and sit in your living room. I'll leave in the middle of the night. I'll sit and wonder for hours and hours why you only have a sheet on your bed. What the fuck is that all about anyway? Don't you ever get cold? Don't you ever want to be comforted by a comforter? Don't you ever think to yourself: If I ever want a girlfriend I have to stop living like a frat boy? Because you should. You should think about those things.
Sorry, I got off topic. This is not about boys (though I do truly wonder why they all have such shitty bedding). Like I said, I don't even want to sleep at my sister's house. I have a problem, and I'm sorry. But I'd feel a lot better if you all took this to heart and never presented me with such a dreadful idea as sleeping at your house.