'My little black book is not that little after all... Surprise!
It's not that "I've only had two men in my life", not so "I'm not a virgin, but I'm still the wife type".
My little black book has a lot of mistakes, a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of long forgotten names, a lot of crapy guys, a lot of flirting games... Damn! And I remember it all like it was yesterday, from the text messages and phonecalls, to the neck kisses against the wall... And the cheap perfume smell on my pillow. Oh! It was all so wrong! Not to talk about the faked orgasms show, because believe me honey, you wouldn't want to know.
So, so many white pages painted with blood, sweat and tears; and broken hearts drawned in bright red, right next to that boy's name that used to date my best friend... Ah! Those good, old, sweet teenage years when I still believed in my fairytale dreams. No wonder my little black book turned out this big!
You see, there's nothing little about my black book... And there's nothing little about me too.
I can't give little, I can't cry little, I can't dream little, I can't try little. You take me with my big heart, my extra-large dreams, my super high expectations, my 14- piece- Louis Vuitton emotional baggage, my giant talent for complication... You take the whole package!
I give you everything because I'm a believer, and at the end of our story, you fuck it all up and make my little black book bigger.'