You don’t wish any such thing. You might wish you’d never found me, and you might wish you were different, but you’d never wish not to hear from me. It’s comforting for you, just knowing I continue to exist.
And, well… I hate to break this to you, but… refusing to masturbate over words that make your heart ache and your cunt wet while completely failing to notice that this is *exactly* the sort of control and denial I want for you? Without me having to actually *do* anything? That’s some Moronic Dumbass-Good Girl hybrid magic you’ve got going there. Brava!