Definitely, I'd definitely be willing to listen to you recount your exciting little love escapades any time of the day. Just not all day, every day. I want to be more than feel-good friends. I don't even remember what we used to talk about. Something about God. about religion about faith, about good food. And something about conquering our fears and the world. But the details, I forget. They're sketchy. It's difficult to remember all that when we just talk about you. I gladly oblige because I do love you as a friend. But it's not real, we forget real.
You say it's real, but who the hell to?
I forget what it's like to be your friend. And through all my regret of not being able to prevent the inevitable from happening, I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that you're probably okay with it. At least one of us survived to face the world, huh.
Whatever happened to not letting boys change us? Screw those damned dinner boxes. This stopped being a joke a long time ago.
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