You're gone in a cloud of orange dust and the sound of indie hip hop.
I'm still in shock, still wondering what this means for 'us'.
Last night you said we weren't friends. And now everything from your porn to your laptop has taken up residence in my room.
I don't even want to look anything but the note you left that supposedly explains everything I need to know.
It doesn't even come close. Now I'm crying, I'm bawling because part of me knows you won't ever come back. My hands are shaking as I reread the last part obsessively.
Thank you, Jess.
I might have been dead without you.
Sorry I couldn't be different.
I wish I had hugged you harder before you had left.
I wish I had told you exactly what you meant to me in person.
Instead of handing you a note with 18 dollars in it, I should have just opened my mouth and said the words.
But I gave you a note, a note that you threw in the driver's side window without reading.
I wanted to cry then too, instead I hugged you and you awkwardly returned it. You're saying not to worry, but knowing I'm going to anyway.
Then you climbed into your car, and I'm telling you to come back with all your fingers, toes and teeth.
You're nodding saying you can't promise you'll have all your teeth, but that you packed your tooth brush.
Now you have your music on. I'm trying to tell you I'm gunna miss you, but you're pretending you can't hear me.
And you're gone in a cloud of orange dust and the blaring sound indie hip hop.