Well, darling, i am finally leaving you. And it's not you...it's me. When we first began, it was mostly alright. Winters were a little dreary, but after breaking up with all your half ass guys, I romanticized the rain. Shit, if i felt really down, I could drive to a waterfall in 20 minutes, and hump a log. And the summers couldn't be beat. It was never 100, and if you got to the river early, you could claim a nice spot for yourself. Cup and Saucer or Sewickly's were breakfast. People did yoga for health, not for show. Not for dates. Tinder was something you brought with you camping, cause you'd never be able to get a fire lit without it. People were never super open, more so friendly, but you didn't need invitations to make yourself at home. Now, it's Nazis, Liberals, Gentrification, and Traffic. You're spent. You care more about dogs than you do about people, and you'll never get a thing done, you fiucking do gooders. So, whilst in line at Salt and Straw, don't look for me, cause I'm gone. I'm over it. And over you.
IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME
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