I can’t remember the first time we met or the first time your handsome face made blood rush to my face. I can’t remember walking through the empty field with your friends wishing that it was just you and I. I don’t remember any of the music you like or what made me feel drawn to you from the start. I never thought you were as attractive as you thought I did and I never wanted more than a one night stand. I don’t think about you from time to time and wish things had gone differently. I never want (so badly) for you to kiss me when we talk. I never want to feel your aggressive hands travel along my body. I never want to feel your lips upon mine; I don’t even remember what it was like to kiss you, it must’ve been lousy. I don’t remember anything about you. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.

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