I still can’t believe it was just 4 months ago that I saw you last. As if it was just yesterday.
It was December 16th, a Thursday, at the AMC in Burbank waiting for the Tron Legacy premiere. I remember this being the first time I had seen you since graduation probably.
I remember chatting with you and the guys and asking you what college you go to now and such. You said you had actually taken this semester off, or was it the whole year off? I think you said you wanted to go to Azusa. I’m not sure.
Ever since I first came to Village in 7th grade, we’ve had our lockers right next to each other every year. I’ll always remember the sound of your voice when you’d say, “Hey Sareen.” We didn’t even know each other that well, but you were always so friendly, to everyone.
Or do you guys get that slight paranoia too when you want to talk about a certain person on Tumblr but fear the fact that they might be personally stalking your blog and you have NO WAY OF KNOWING THIS.
Because this child is just hilarious.
& I wan’t to blog about your last name, but I can’t.
Okay, first things first, why would you even WANT to date a guy whose so sketch.
Like, don’t be so stupid. If it’s clearly obvious this scum infested guy is a two-timing slut, so don’t be so stubborn. You’re in denial.
I have to agree with the whole, “Don’t mix your friends and your relationships” bizz, but honestly sometimes your friends notice the things you don’t. & They clearly care about you more than this boyfriend of yours,
I’m sorry I cannot write about this topic Taleen.
I sound like a relationship counselor.
But, speaking of dirtbags,
The nerve of some girls these days.
What ever happened to being classy?
Do you really expect others not to assume things about you when it’s oh so obvious you get around?
You know how in romantic movie scenes, and I guess in real life as well, how in the heat of the moment, when the guys ripping off the girl’s shirt and all the buttons fall off and its all seductive and shit?
Okay if it was me, I’d be really fucking pissed.
Ruin my buzz.
Totally turned off.
You just ruined my shirt.
If it’s a shirt I REALLY REALLY LIKED, then we’d have a problem.
I’d make the guy sew back every single button back on, perfectly, BY HAND.