So we went to a nice pub, and he was friendly, and we talked, and I drank red wine. I went back to his place.
He'd asked me on a whim. The last time he'd seen me, I was a wrecked little fucktoy, crying and drugged. Says something for his character that he decided he'd like to actually get to know me after that.
You're reading this, so you must have too much time on your hands. It's just my lame attempts to communicate with the world, or myself. What I'm trying to communicate, I ain't so sure... All resemblance to any people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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