In the same day that I helped you tie your shoe I also find myself wanting to yell at you to back off a little. Do you have to stand right behind me the whole fucking time I'm trying to mix cupcakes? I mean fine, while I wash and you dry. But as I'm trying to cook? Do you have to tie a bow on the apron behind me? Do you have to organize the shelf right next to me? Fucking back off. Please. Please.
Because I know that I won't be able to keep the vemon from my voice. Not today.
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