I almost died last Friday. I almost died and it doesn’t really bother me. It doesn’t bother a person under thirty because a person under thirty hasn’t lived to half of their life expectancy, and a person under thirty has no idea what life is.
I have no idea what life is.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, love was on the line.”
He will be angry and jealous and I will care, or not; depends on the conversation before hand.
the truth is I am going to marry someone else, and the truth is I will be happy.
I always love you, even if you marry someone else. I’ll send you a birthday card or something like that but it will always just be me telling you that I still love you. You won’t open them after a while, and I’ll stop writing in them. When you you see the name on the envelope you’ll just know what it says.
But I want you to be “someone”
But you’ll meet someone there, eventually and you can touch him.
But I really, really, really want to touch you. Sometimes to know you’re there or to kiss you politely, and other times just to make love you so I can feel you in the most intimate way. You’re breaking my heart into a million little pieces and you don’t even know it.
