(no subject)
I met a new boy.
His name is Conor and he’s got these rosy little cheeks and he smiles big.
Big, white, honest.
Honest, kind of.
So this new boy I met. His name is Conor and he just got out of rehab.
He didn’t tell me he just got out of rehab.
My friend told me but Conor didn’t exactly lie to me.
This new boy I met. I met him at a party on Friday and he was so drunk. He kissed my bicep and my hipbone in a surprisingly unsexual way.
He told me how beautiful I was how he didn’t want to meet my boyfriend how he wish I didn’t have a boyfriend how we wish he was my boyfriend how my boyfriend is probably a fag anyway and doesn’t deserve me as his girlfriend.
He doesn’t care that my boyfriend isn’t even really my boyfriend we’re just in love but he doesn’t care he wants me to be his, his girlfriend. He says his mom would love me, she’d love a cute little Irish girl like me with straight red hair and big green eyes and the type of friendly smile that you’d never know how evil I could really be. He says his dad would love me, because I can smell corned beef and cabbage from two miles away and Erin Go Bragh means something to me on days other than March 17. He says his brothers would love me because I have fighting stories and I love NCAA basketball and my brackets are a source of pleasure and hopefully money but not this year. He says his little sister would probably hate me and cry that I was with him because I was taking away her big brother.
This is all hypothetical, of course.
I tried to scare him away with all my problems and my issues so I wouldn’t have to hurt him later, I could just disappoint him now before he got to know me.
It didn’t work out.
I guess he’s the nurturing type.
This will never do.
His name is Conor and he’s got these rosy little cheeks and he smiles big.
Big, white, honest.
Honest, kind of.
So this new boy I met. His name is Conor and he just got out of rehab.
He didn’t tell me he just got out of rehab.
My friend told me but Conor didn’t exactly lie to me.
This new boy I met. I met him at a party on Friday and he was so drunk. He kissed my bicep and my hipbone in a surprisingly unsexual way.
He told me how beautiful I was how he didn’t want to meet my boyfriend how he wish I didn’t have a boyfriend how we wish he was my boyfriend how my boyfriend is probably a fag anyway and doesn’t deserve me as his girlfriend.
He doesn’t care that my boyfriend isn’t even really my boyfriend we’re just in love but he doesn’t care he wants me to be his, his girlfriend. He says his mom would love me, she’d love a cute little Irish girl like me with straight red hair and big green eyes and the type of friendly smile that you’d never know how evil I could really be. He says his dad would love me, because I can smell corned beef and cabbage from two miles away and Erin Go Bragh means something to me on days other than March 17. He says his brothers would love me because I have fighting stories and I love NCAA basketball and my brackets are a source of pleasure and hopefully money but not this year. He says his little sister would probably hate me and cry that I was with him because I was taking away her big brother.
This is all hypothetical, of course.
I tried to scare him away with all my problems and my issues so I wouldn’t have to hurt him later, I could just disappoint him now before he got to know me.
It didn’t work out.
I guess he’s the nurturing type.
This will never do.