That night was amazing. For once, I wasn't in charge. I didn't have to call the shots or make the moves. I just had to say yes. It was the greatest any man had ever made me feel.


but he doesn't remember. He knows it happened, and he hates me for it.

but he doesn't remember.

I don't know if I should be angry or cry.

I want to talk it out with him... that's my usual approach to 'issues'...
but everything's telling me that's the wrong idea.

I wish I could just sleep it off, but my dreams recreate him.

God. Damn. It.
I'm not like this. I don't mourn over the past; I move on. Why the fuck do I care? We have ONE mutual friend, and she knows I don't deserve his hate. It doesn't fucking matter what he thinks of me. We may never see each other again.

God. Fucking. Damnit. This is why I don't do emotions.

Fuck you, irony.


Anonymous
12:39:00 AM
8/12/2008