I'm an idiotic, geeky, temperamental moron who would gladly deny the company of most people for the chance to sit and shoot Batarians in the face with a shotgun.
I would happily cancel on most people to read another chapter of whatever book I have propped open in front of me.
I would pass up the option of going to a restaurant to sit in a darkened room eating a too cheesy pizza watching an equally cheesy film whose title went something along the lines of; Dread *Insert vicious animal here* Vs Robo *Insert another savage animal here* In space 3.
I like fanfics about aliens that don't exist.
I like the romance scenes of the said unexisting aliens.
I wish they were real.
I wish my best friend was an alien.
I wish my best friend was Garrus.
I wish my best friend was Garrus.
But then I realise that my best friend is a boy who I sleep beside nearly every night and want to take back all my wishes.
Because he doesn't care that I'm an idiot.
He doesn't care that I tell him pointless facts when I know he's trying to listen to someone on his headset just because I like talking to him.
He doesn't care that I'm anti-social or that I don't want to go outside.
He doesn't care that I'm addicted to ME or that I probably have a bit of a crush on Thane or that I actually fret over who I'm going to romance on the game because I definitely don't want to tup Jacob.
I wish I was laid next to him right now, reading him a page of my book in a silly voice while he looked at me like I should be in a straight jacket.
