Little Less Than A Promise, And A

Luckily, Tiny Texts Me Every Five Minutes Or So. I Don't Know How He Does It Without Getting Caught In Class. Maybe He Hides The Phone In The Folds Of His Stomach Or Something.

Simon: That's Disgusting! Me: What's Disgusting? Simon: You Know. You Put Your Thing In The Place Where He, Um, Defecates.

I Say Good-bye To The Part Of Myself That Misses Him So Much.

The Clock Always Ticks. There Are Times You Don't Hear It, And There Are Times That You Do.

There Are Times When I Worry That I've Already Lost Myself. That Is, That My Self Is So Inseparable From Being With You That If We Were To Separate, I Would No Longer Be. I Save This Thought For When I Feel The Darkest Discontent. I Never Meant To Depend So Much On Someone Else.