Its 12:15 a.m and all I can think about is how badly I wanna golf with Niall. I want him to lecture me on how bad my swing is then laugh for hours on end because my aiming is shit. I want him to make fun of me for how many times I fall while I’m carrying my golf bag because I’m the epitome of oh no Niall. I want him to make jokes about how many times I had to putt on the green because my ball just wouldn’t go into the hole. I want him to beat me so I can hear him brag about it while we go get lunch afterwards.