I fight it, and I fight it - with this rebel-born heart of mine,
I don't even understand it myself, I;ve been in love lots of times.
Before Her, After Her...
I've forgotten her , only to be reminded again and again by this treacherous heart of mine.
I can't chalk her up to some poignant memory.
I can't keep her in the same box as the others
The loves of the rest are as memories. I miss them, in an offhand, senimental way.
She is different. I tried to find her on FB tonight, to tell her how much she made my heart ache-
Goddamn it all. I actually love that bitch.
More than i love myself.
Jesus fucking christ- what a curse
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