To Wooley Mammoth (inside joke),
I met you in the beginning of last summer, we hit it off right away… as friends because I was in a relationship. You were there for me Halloween night after a bad rebound, when I was a mess and didn’t know which way was up anymore. We talked all night, long after everyone had gone home and passed out. Winter break you and I were glued to eachother; we talked, laughed, and kissed for hours. After a couple weeks we talked about what was going on, and decided to see eachother exclusively.
We clicked, when I was scared you made me laugh, when I was angry you made me laugh, when I was grumpy you made me laugh. Post- Halloween you told me time and again that you were a sincere guy..I kept writing you off as a stereotypical horny guy. I finally let you in. You got under my skin. I could fall for you
I had surgery a couple weeks before I had to fly back up to Buff. You texted but you didn’t visit. Not once.
My friends visited. You said we were more than friends.
I’m still hung up on you. It sucks balls. I feel like was I shit on.
Whatever we were died in a day. It’s over. What kills me is you telling me you’re sorry, but you’re still into me. What kills more is that there has been no closure. We haven’t spoken in a week, and I want to punch you then kiss you.
Halloween you saved me. This february, you’ve torn me apart again.
You called me gorgeous and hit me up daily til the week I had to fly back upstate.
I must be clueless or something.