Now, along time ago I was like every other girl in thinking that I wanted the perfect guy. A nice bod, a nice personality; an all around angel. Well, I got an angel and apparently I couldn't tell the difference between black and white because my angel had already fallen.
His name is Josh and yes, I still love him deeply. It's kinda like how a widow describes her first husband; an unbearable longing to hold him once more but she knows where her heart resides. That, my friends, would be with her second husband. The man who is healing the wounds that her previous lover's death left.
Well, I think Josh is still alive but it's been a couple months since I've seen him so he could have OD'ed by now. I just...I keep thinking to myself that it was something I did to ruin the relationship. I mean, I've never actually been mad at him. I'm so stupid for saying this but I miss him so much. When I think of all the fun we had with each other, I get happier. If only by a small fraction, but still...it's something, right?
I'm bitter.
I hear everyone else talking about how their first love was just so friggin' perfect and how happy they were/ or still are! The perfect first kiss; just the right spice of romance. Mine was stealed; a fluke with forced tongue. For a time, I swore off men because I was just that pissed.
I just want to move away from everyone for 6 months to get my head together. Maybe to Thailand with the monks...?
Damn, I still remember when we started going out. February 7th. A week before Valentines Day.
There's just alot of stuff left unsaid between us that I can't let go. He didn't anger me, he disappointed me; which is ten times worse.
For my last hooray, I want to give him the kiss he didn't give me, then bite off his tongue so he doesn't screw up ever again with another other girl.
His name is Josh and yes, I still love him deeply. It's kinda like how a widow describes her first husband; an unbearable longing to hold him once more but she knows where her heart resides. That, my friends, would be with her second husband. The man who is healing the wounds that her previous lover's death left.
Well, I think Josh is still alive but it's been a couple months since I've seen him so he could have OD'ed by now. I just...I keep thinking to myself that it was something I did to ruin the relationship. I mean, I've never actually been mad at him. I'm so stupid for saying this but I miss him so much. When I think of all the fun we had with each other, I get happier. If only by a small fraction, but still...it's something, right?
I'm bitter.
I hear everyone else talking about how their first love was just so friggin' perfect and how happy they were/ or still are! The perfect first kiss; just the right spice of romance. Mine was stealed; a fluke with forced tongue. For a time, I swore off men because I was just that pissed.
I just want to move away from everyone for 6 months to get my head together. Maybe to Thailand with the monks...?
Damn, I still remember when we started going out. February 7th. A week before Valentines Day.
There's just alot of stuff left unsaid between us that I can't let go. He didn't anger me, he disappointed me; which is ten times worse.
For my last hooray, I want to give him the kiss he didn't give me, then bite off his tongue so he doesn't screw up ever again with another other girl.
Community Member
wow...
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Just wow...
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