I'm sorry.
I guess I should of told you. I mean, the alley outside of our favorite
bar, with all our friends just inside trying to look like they aren't
paying attention. I also probably should have told you before you called me a
self-centered, stupid cunt that would take better
photographs if she left the lens cap on. Yeah, I could have
done without hearing that.
You, see...
You're just like everyone else.
You fit the
pattern:
self-destructive, dark-haired geek boys who like wearing
nail polish (although never in public),
dungeons and dragons and drinking themselves into
oblivion. And, at about this time in the
relationship I realize that I really don't like sharing myself with
self-mutilating, whiners that are so stuck in their ways that they're always going to be right here. Right now.
I'm
surprised my friends didn't warn you. They're usually better about that.
Do not fall in love with Laura, and do not let Laura fall in love with you. If it makes you feel any
better,
I didn't really fall in love with you. "
Ya. Me, too." Only, I'm not
Jerry Maguire, I have no problems expressing my emotions.
Oh, please don't
cry. There are at least
fifty girls in the bar
drunk enough to fuck you tonight, especially since your
girlfriend just broke up with you.
Baby, I've always been a
cold,
heartless wench. And you're more
observant than that, you didn't just figure that out. Hey, At least I didn't say I still want to be
friends.
Cheer up, you know you have secrets, and I'm not the person you should share them with.
Rescuing my own nodeshells. sigh oh, and this is a piece of fiction, just to let you know.