(no subject)
It's such a shame when old friends fall out sell out. But it's great to hear you're doing fine (with her) and she's so beautiful. So, sweetheart...I hope you enjoy it and never think of me again. Sundays make me think of you, as do certain songs and words and biting cold afternoons and (most of all) quarter to six. Enough. This must end but you won't even notice which is probably for the best. But it's just the price I pay for letting you hold me like that as I shivered in my silly green dress. Enough.
fin.
fin.