like crack rock
It's been a long while since I've seen you, live, in action. I wonder if I'll look silly. Or maybe just fall into you.
One time, I went to a party to see old high school friends. An old boyfriend and I flirted the night away, not because I like him, but because the same situation with the same people brought out my old actions.
I've been trying not to day dream about what it would be like to pick you up from the air port. Will Greg come along? If I go alone, will I kiss you just once? I think I would like to have one kiss for the four years in between our last and then be done with it. But what if that begins something anew?
I told greg you were like crack rock. It was not an exagerration. Years of my life have been devoted to you, maybe it wasn't even to you. Maybe it was just the excuse I needed not to concentrate on what was going on immediately. I can't handle the immediate. Greg gets so frustrated with me for that sometimes.
I'll probably cry. My mascara will run. I won't look very pretty.
You're just this unknown. We've never really known each other. Not the booger-picking each other. We've known a romantic, wordy version of you and I. I know Greg, and I know the booger-picking Greg. He knows the booger-picking Erin. It's so much better now.
One time, I went to a party to see old high school friends. An old boyfriend and I flirted the night away, not because I like him, but because the same situation with the same people brought out my old actions.
I've been trying not to day dream about what it would be like to pick you up from the air port. Will Greg come along? If I go alone, will I kiss you just once? I think I would like to have one kiss for the four years in between our last and then be done with it. But what if that begins something anew?
I told greg you were like crack rock. It was not an exagerration. Years of my life have been devoted to you, maybe it wasn't even to you. Maybe it was just the excuse I needed not to concentrate on what was going on immediately. I can't handle the immediate. Greg gets so frustrated with me for that sometimes.
I'll probably cry. My mascara will run. I won't look very pretty.
You're just this unknown. We've never really known each other. Not the booger-picking each other. We've known a romantic, wordy version of you and I. I know Greg, and I know the booger-picking Greg. He knows the booger-picking Erin. It's so much better now.