by Anonymous

My clothes smell like fresh rain. They always give her away.

I don't think she's realised it yet.

We're too much alike sometimes. We both think we know better, and we're both stubborn. She's the light to my dark. It's why we couldn't stay together. I'm too angry and she's too full of hope.

I promised to break her arm if she had me call her aunt. I wish she had become, for her sake and his. I wish it had worked out, for all my misgivings. I wanted them to be happy.

Big dummy.

I want my jeans back.

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