People don't understand that sleeping around doesn't mean I'm a bad person. Alcohol is gross and I don't (and never will) do drugs. I just enjoy physical pleasure and despise commitment. I'm still a decent person.
*4 years ago*
I climb into Dylan's room.
"What's up, DP, you wanted to talk to me?" I ask as I flop onto his bed.
"I dumped Megan." He whispers.
"WHAT, WHY?!" I yell at him.
"It wasn't love." He replies simply.
"Oh my god. Don't get me started on this. You know how I feel. And it doesn't matter if it wasn't "love"! If she makes you happy, even for a little while, be with her!" I exclaim. "Especially if you're gettin the booty..." I tease.
"She's not the one who makes me happy." He mutters and I almost don't catch it. I ignore him.
"Are you ok?" I ask.
"I'm fine." He wasn't, but he wouldn't tell me that.
XXXXXXXXXX
Every time I would tell Dylan the newest guy I fucked, he would force a smile and nod. Why is he being so weird? He's normal otherwise. We have our sleepover every Friday, he hates the movies I pick, we joke, we talk seriously; normal. But not when I talk about boys.
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When It All Comes Crashing Down
Roman d'amour"They say when you're dying, your whole life flashes before your eyes. But for me, it was a few good memories, but also my biggest regrets. And as the plane crashes down I can only think of one thing, him and how much I fucked up. Before I get into...
