Sick of swimming.

Sick of butterflies, starry night skies, incomprehensible murmurs, late night phone calls, board stiff hugs, keeping those sweaty palms together, breathless surprises, unforgettable scents, inside jokes, wishful thinking, and all the pain that comes after these are all gone. Yes, the sickness makes my gastric juices flow up my esophagus. After all of this, I’ll get over the excruciation process. I hope.

For now, I’m really really sick of the cycle. Ryan’s right. Rule is to never give in to the intoxication of love.

But you know me too well. I’ll take this all back sooner or later.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. ryan
    Jul 17, 2007 @ 20:18:13

    no man. i was wrong.

    you let yourself feel what you want to.

    just as long as you dont do so with a dick.


  2. trish
    Jul 17, 2007 @ 20:35:05

    i take it back. sooner than i intended. haha.
    to hell with dicks.
    but yea, i’m still sick of it.
    we better get drugs for love-sickness. hahahaha. eew


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