I find myself longing for plains of snow, for the stretching distances of the highways. I feel as though my time in this place is too long, and ultimately a futile endeavour. This place has become a reminder of my failure. I'm not happy here.
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And it's kinda weird ... when I met you, I could tell you had a touch of the devil in you ... fuck you for making me suffer.
I'll remember never to jokingly hit on your girlie again if that is the repayment.