He’s not coming.
It’s 11:42 in the evening, and everything in the busy streets of North Carolina are slowly creeping its way towards solemnity. Restaurants are slowly closing, boutiques are cleaning up, the fast cars slowly vanished from sight, Rueford 68 is closing sometime at 12:30, and I, Tamara Jenkins, have completely lost hope in believing that he is coming.
Not until when I heard the bell on the front door ring twice.
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So, I think I’m just about over being your girlfriend..
I’m leaving, I’m leaving
No more wondering what you’ve been doing
Where you been sleeping..
It’s over..
I’m leaving,
I’m leaving..