boys

Boys and Last of Things

I had a pretty dream last night. My boyfriend past appeared to me in a tux and asked if we could waltz together for one last time (funny thing is, I've never waltzed with any of them).

We did the Fred and Ginger thing, as he gallantly turned and I gracefully twirled to an empty dance floor. What seemed to be the surrounding was only a blanket of stars.

He then kissed me kindly on the forehead, and told me he was letting me go now.

Yeah, I know that. He left me years ago. *Hmpf.

It was a tiring few days as I hurried my essays (still have one more to go and a presentation before exam, barely three weeks away! *eep!). I had barely any sleep lately.

So when *Mr Winks (I just realised how *obscene it was to call him *Winky) text messaged me to have dinner, I was too tired to cough out any creative language. Imagine how irritating it must be for you to text someone a whole para, to be only replied with 'yeah', 'okay', 'Wednesday?' one-liner messages. I thank *heavens for my understanding friends.

"Well, for you and your leisure I shall make the requisite sacrifice. On the hour past noon then fairer one", said he

But he says we would have the last of dinners together. I can't believe he is letting me go too!

Which could actually be true. You see, *Mr Winks is no ordinary person (really, I mean that... very eccentric-like). I can actually imagine him saying that he wants to 'remember me this way', prolly 'unspoiled by the capitalist world and makings', retaining my 'innocence and purity'.

Yeah, we talk like that to each other. Sometimes, I wish we all would. Some friends have testified arguing and insulting each other as signs of closeness (and closure?). Me? I would prefer to get melodramatic with you.