Somewhere In Between A Snake And A Mongoose @grantthebeastpremo - Tumblr Blog

Tomorrow marks the last day of the two month drought that I haven't seen Sydney. If everything goes to plan, I will never wait 2 months to see her again. Finally everything we've worked hard for is becoming a reality and it is insane to think how incredible it is that we came up on the other side of everything we've gone through as a team, as a couple, and in love. Sure, it's perhaps almost 8 years later than I would have liked, but nothing that's worth having comes easy. You see and hear in the movies to not give up on love. However, it seems like recently it's quite alright to give up. If things get difficult you might as well quit right? It may be arrogant to think, but winners don't quit. You fight until the last possible second. Success stories aren't built on clear paths to the top. They are built upon clawing through adversity when times get tough. They are built upon learning lessons and then fixing what went wrong. Love isn't easy. It's not always fun. And it's never perfect. But loving the person who loves you makes you a winner. There are no trophies for second place; only the thought of what could have been. Somehow I won. And you can be damn sure I am going to fight like hell to stay one. Women may not be trophies, but Sydney Menges as close as you get. You know how people say that "today is the first day of the rest of your life"? Well. Hello May 11, 2016. 👋🏻

dundermifflinscranton

swear-to-make-it-last

Thankful 4 u always

baetology

Describe your perfect date in detail.

sonypraystation

ideal date: it happens

bibliotechno

What is my perfect date? I break into Tiffany’s at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It’s priceless. As I’m taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It’s her father’s business. She’s Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico but I go to Canada. I don’t trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he’s the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadero. She’s been waiting for me all these years; she’s never taken another lover. I don’t care, I don’t show up. I go to Berlin. That’s where I stashed the chandelier.