 Love you so much, can't wait to see you again, naked. I send some smileys, she sends me the, like this thing, like run a fuck. She's fucking this guy the whole time, right? Texting me this shit. Anyway, they fuck Sunday morning raw. She comes home, of course, like she's saying, we fuck, Kevin just left a few hours earlier. She gets back, we fuck, sloppy seconds. She then writes this email in front of me. I watched her fingers type it in the bed. Think about this for a second. This is borderline, this is riding, thrill seeking, this is riding the fucking edge. I watch fingers type it, minus the sex stuff, right? All I do is look at the screen. But, you know, we just had sex, so I'm like, all right, whatever, I'm not gonna read your fucking emails. I'm a germ freak as it is. I'm fucking paranoid about this shit anyway. Just think about how fucking gross that is, how fucked up that is, by the way I talked to him. Cause he really wanted to talk to me. I was like, dude, I don't even wanna talk to you, like you're one guy, like 20, like you don't matter. He said, not only do they not use a condom, he's like, dude, we never even talked about it. Never even came up with a conversation. Which of course, right? Psychopaths don't care, they don't give a fuck.