I’m fighting the urge to call you even though I know if I
do, you’ll just ignore it because, well because it’s me calling. I want
to brag about the multiple women I have slept with just to prove to you that
all of your bullshit has evaporated from my mind but in reality it’s all just
fantasies and internet porn, hell I even began to have imaginary sex with my
non-realistic red-headed curvaceous dorm mate who just so happened to greet me,
naked. To my shock, the school had co-ed dorms which isn’t really shocking but
when your dorm mate is that crazy gorgeous well then shit. Anyways, I want it
to eat at you that shit has improved on my end. Like twins I want it to burn
you like acid reflux when I ingest the deliciousness that is her spit. I want
it to sting when I prick my finger on a motherfucking thorn except when I do I
can’t help but vomit up the amount of tequila that you drank from the night
before. Oftentimes, I pass by the mirror and see you on the other side,
modeling some skimpy lingerie for some no nut having sack of shit that doesn’t
even deserve you. More times than I’d like to admit, I’ll jerk forward or
backward and I know that there’s nothing I can do about it but just wait for it
to cease, I can however scream in agony that “this Fucking has to stop!” I want
you to feel how bad it was to think, to breathe, hell to feel. I want you to
forever picture what could’ve been and not what the hell is, I want you to
remember those times you talked to me about your relationship troubles and all
the sexual things you would tell me about the two of you and how my fucked up
mentality would make the scenario that much more realistic. I want you to know
about these things because when it was just the two of us, it was everything to
me, but now it’s just nothing to you…
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