Met up with an ex, not the most recent, the one just before that. I thought I was over it but godDAMN it HURT. Real, physical pain. I didn't flicker, I didn't bat an eyelid. Not even when she first called me to say she was back in the country for the next year. Not even when she started asking me for little favours ("Can I borrow blah blah?") just like she used to. Not even when I saw the photo of her new boyfriend, who looks like a model, sitting in a tropical pool covered in rose petals, smiling at her as she took the photo. Not even when she asked me where she could take her new boyfriend to show him a good time in London or the rest of the UK, naming places I told her I wanted to take her.
She's still gorgeous. And she's still nothing like she needs to be if I'm ever going to be happy talking to her.
She's still gorgeous. And she's still nothing like she needs to be if I'm ever going to be happy talking to her.
xanthia:
You have a beautiful way with words. I also like what you had to say about Breath play...it seems like you know what you're talking about.
b57913:
Happy Birthday! Party Hard! 