he says, she says
“this is what i hate about making nice memories,” i told her with hell-deep sigh, “you’ll get too used to it, it’s painful to know you’ll be pining over it when it’s gone.”
“i am sorry,” was all she mustered to say, “my decision, nothing wrong with you, nothing to blame your self for.”
it’s been four months, and she, my fourth girl. i never used to believe this chinese shit, but is it coming to life? four they say spells death and bad luck.
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