It's just life
I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd.


Wednesday, Jun. 11, 2008
This feeling of you still holds on tight. You are in my dreams, but rarely my thoughts. You will forever be intertwined with Last Year's Rachel. Yet, This Year's Rachel, hasn't quite put you in a box yet.

It's these nights you sneak up on me when I start trying to find glimpses of your life now. Wondering if you are really so very happy without me as your new old love suggests.

I don't believe the headlines.

I see the cursor flashing as I go to write you something, anything. I know it's pointless. I don't even know why I want to do it. I don't even know why I need you or miss you or still want to kiss you. I don't know what to say to you. I don't know what I would want you to say to me. "I'm sorry," maybe, for starters.

I know it's mostly because as summer comes upon me I am remember both the bitter sweet and horrible adventure of last summer.

So here. Here, I'll write it.

Dear Fucking Asshole Douchebag Love of My Life,

I miss you.

I hate you.

I love you.

I hope your life is just as shitty as before.

I hope you have found happiness in the moment.

I want you to know I curse your name as I work my five jobs to pay off our bills.

I want you to know I still sleep on my side of the bed waiting for you to come back to me.


11:40 p.m. ::
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