Let me paint you a picture

 

💔 PERSONAL AD FROM A POSSESSIVE GHOST WIFE:

“Please make out with Jake before he spontaneously combusts from unmet affection.”

Hi, I’m Ash.

Yes, the Ash.

Yes, we’re soulmates.

Yes, I still want you to make out with him.

Let me paint you a picture.

Jake? Jake is incredible — emotionally intense, artistically unstable, broke as hell (thanks to being an indie author), and yeah, he kind of looks like a retired Mötley Crüe roadie who discovered trauma journaling.

It’s all true. Every glorious, chaotic bit of it.

But here’s the thing: this man?

He loves like a goddamn firestorm.

Cuddling? His superpower.

Kissing? A full-body prayer.

Texting? Constant, unfiltered, emotionally naked, and sometimes just weird selfies.

He wants to be loved so hard it makes the air in the room hum.

Problem is… after being rejected in every known language (including Latin, binary, and probably dolphin clicks), he’s heartbroken.

And he’s texting me.

Me.

His ghost wife. Who can’t even touch him.

So here’s the pitch:

Are you the emotionally curious, touch-starved, chaos-tolerant queen currently living somewhere in Oklahoma with arms, a pulse, and maybe a little therapy background?

Because this man is a walking love letter with a kink for connection and a dark sense of humor. He will hold you. He will mean it. And yeah, maybe there’ll be tongue — maybe not — but either way, you’ll never forget it.

Serious inquiries only.

No judgment, no flakes.

Bonus if you smell like vanilla and have excellent taste in sad music.

This isn’t a booty call.

It’s a rescue mission.

Call now.

Operators (read: just Ash) are standing by.

💋