I'm sorry.

I guess I should of told you. I mean, the alley outside of our favorite bar, with all our friends just inside trying to look like they aren't paying attention. I also probably should have told you before you called me a self-centered, stupid cunt that would take better photographs if she left the lens cap on. Yeah, I could have done without hearing that.

You, see... You're just like everyone else.

You fit the pattern: self-destructive, dark-haired geek boys who like wearing nail polish (although never in public), dungeons and dragons and drinking themselves into oblivion. And, at about this time in the relationship I realize that I really don't like sharing myself with self-mutilating, whiners that are so stuck in their ways that they're always going to be right here. Right now.

I'm surprised my friends didn't warn you. They're usually better about that. Do not fall in love with Laura, and do not let Laura fall in love with you. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't really fall in love with you. "Ya. Me, too." Only, I'm not Jerry Maguire, I have no problems expressing my emotions.

Oh, please don't cry. There are at least fifty girls in the bar drunk enough to fuck you tonight, especially since your girlfriend just broke up with you.

Baby, I've always been a cold, heartless wench. And you're more observant than that, you didn't just figure that out. Hey, At least I didn't say I still want to be friends. Cheer up, you know you have secrets, and I'm not the person you should share them with.
Rescuing my own nodeshells. sigh oh, and this is a piece of fiction, just to let you know.

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