I love you, you picky, expensive-tasted, attention whore

I mean, why else would I deal with you almost every day? You only serve one purpose, to make my life easier...that's it. From time to time I ask you to carry my stuff but does that really justify all your obvious faults?

You just have to always have the most expensive drink despite knowing my wallets cries every time I take you out. And whenever I bring you to school there's always the little freshman girl who ogles over you and then I have to talk about how great you are and how you're always on my side (lies!).

When I first met you, you were wonderful, perfect, nothing I could ever complain about - you were so much better than the last one. But now, almost fours years later, you're really starting to let yourself go.

You grumble, nag, and complain every time I take you out, You don't even have the guts to voice it out loud, you just whisper your complaints, knowing that I will turn down the radio so I can hear what's the matter. Then you decide that you won't tell me what the problem is, you'd rather leave me guessing, trying day in and day out to figure why you act like you do.

When my mom first introduced me to you long all those years ago, I knew you were going to be mine, and when you became mine, I was elated to begin my journey with you, but the honeymoon's over. You know how to push my buttons alright, make me hate you, but you don't care because you know at the end of the day...

I love you.

...now take me to tonights grad party you whore