IF I EVER SEE YOU AGAIN IT'S TOO FUCKING SOON.

The fimiliar feel of things has gotten to fimiliar. I don't mind his bad habits, I don't mind the pillow talk. This is all one big game of hunter/hunted. My eyes were more or less too heavy to meet his gaze, Or maybe it was guilt. I don't cry anymore because i haven't thought about that in weeks. I was reading old internet blogs/fotologs/other things i get hooked on. It was fun. Good story Kim.