Whenever I meet a cute guy that was born after 1990 I want to kill myself.
Cleaning out my closet. I’m giving away two and half (huge garbage) bags worth of clothes. Awesome right!
And then I think to myself, maybe I’ll get rid of a pair of shoes or two. I go through all of them and I ended up trying most of them on and walking around the house. I love them all. I can’t part with any.
I want to go shopping now.
Last night I saw an old flame. First time in eight years.
Back in our high school days, they’d all joke around that him and I would marry. It was meant to be. I’d argue against it because he wasn’t photogenic. Our wedding pictures would be horrid!
We messed around a couple times back then. I used him and he me.
After catching up last night he retreated to his friends. (He’s married now.) He kept looking at me. I caught him couple times and he averted his eyes. It was awkward and funny. I was curious to know what he was thinking, going through his mind. Probs my tits. He loved my tits.