melancholycutyououtofmylife
Rain changes to snow.
No cars have come down the street for a few hours.
Listening to "Fuck This...I'm Leaving" by American Analog Set.
Sorry Cute Time. Sorry you had such narrow vision. I don't blame you. But it is why we would never have worked out had you stuck around. We met a few weeks before you moved to NYC. After you left we carried on as lovers. You had such a beautiful body and I loved being inside of you and then holding you in my arms and almost crushing you in kisses. Wrapping you up made me feel wrapped up.
Rain changes to snow.
You would call from a few hours out. Hey, I'm on the train, I'm a couple hours away...can I stay with you tonight? My flight leaves in the morning...it was incredibly passionate.
I can imagine what would have happened had we stuck around in the same town and become boyfriends...banality, middle class existence, bourgeoise, boring, recriminations, acrimony. It worked so well for me. But after a series of emails, a ruthless excision on your part, followed by a 'have a nice life' junior high line and please send me back my hat and delete those naughty photos you took...I'm sorry, but I have no patience for boys with no imagination. Its why we never would have worked out, Cute Tim.
Sorry too: I'm not going to delete those photos.
No cars have come down the street for a few hours.
Listening to "Fuck This...I'm Leaving" by American Analog Set.
Sorry Cute Time. Sorry you had such narrow vision. I don't blame you. But it is why we would never have worked out had you stuck around. We met a few weeks before you moved to NYC. After you left we carried on as lovers. You had such a beautiful body and I loved being inside of you and then holding you in my arms and almost crushing you in kisses. Wrapping you up made me feel wrapped up.
Rain changes to snow.
You would call from a few hours out. Hey, I'm on the train, I'm a couple hours away...can I stay with you tonight? My flight leaves in the morning...it was incredibly passionate.
I can imagine what would have happened had we stuck around in the same town and become boyfriends...banality, middle class existence, bourgeoise, boring, recriminations, acrimony. It worked so well for me. But after a series of emails, a ruthless excision on your part, followed by a 'have a nice life' junior high line and please send me back my hat and delete those naughty photos you took...I'm sorry, but I have no patience for boys with no imagination. Its why we never would have worked out, Cute Tim.
Sorry too: I'm not going to delete those photos.
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