I don't know. 11/10/2009 10:29 a.m.
I don't know how to write about
someone that doesn't love me.
I don't know how to do this,
but you are not in love.
Did I tell you I was happy?
I mean, sure, we fought.
We broke down walls with swung fists
and lost our voices to hurtful words.
I woke up so many mornings in different places from you
I woke up to empty bottles and our bodies cold and nowhere near eachother.
But I was happy.
Content with just cooking you dinner every weeknight
and cleaning your crappy studio apartment.
I mean, sure,
My dog would piss on your floor
And you would bitch.
But did you have to stop loving me for that?
I've never had to pull these thoughts out of my head.
It's always been the other way around, I'm the bastard.
So what are you doing in my shoes?
Manwhore. 03/07/2008 07:05 a.m.
The problem isn't that you fall in love with any girl that gives you two minutes out of her day,
It's that I gave you four.