An a$$ kind of love

Your wannabe interest and my wannabe interest in going out, partying hard, and getting laid was strong enough to bring us together. It’s a bit weird having this type of a mindset for someone who’s commonly seen as a pretty oddly-reserved-for-no-apparent-reason type of person. You were everything that I objectified; dark haired and creamy skinned. And I was everything you objectified; dark haired and petite… as you say. It was love when I saw you by the swimming pool with trunks clung about your behind, and by the window at night; I saw you from another building window
your body fit and statuesque like that of a Greek god
as you took your shirt off near a fan amid hot weather
that memory is forever imprinted in my mind like some rom com. I probably looked like shit that day with my old shirt on,
but you always stood out like arm candy. If you’d known what I thought, you’d probably say I’m being too hard on myself, but it’s tough being with a guy that you believe looks better than you.

I mean, you’re always smiling, even when you’re annoyed; you got this curve about your lips and chicks come running at your feet… I mean, I did. Maybe I was just a number one fan. But anyway, it was the best thing ever
having nothing else in common but our interest for making out and grabbing each other. I think the deepest conversation we ever had was on the beach that night when I asked you what you were thinking, and you gave the most ‘umm… like are we supposed to be thinking?’┬átype of pause and said something pretty cute and mediocre like, “It’s a nice night… I’m with a nice girl…” Inside I thought, ‘that’s it?’┬ábut looking back, welp, that was it indeed… and hey, it was honest.

Good times, nice ass, and a lot of funny situations. We had the most amount of smiles and never really talked.

He said I was the best girlfriend he ever had, and likewise, he was the nicest piece of a$$ I ever got. Man it was so fun. I love him forever and deeply, just because of that.

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