Dont use this much no more just add me on bebo -- AlexC5070
I don't know you. The only thing I know about you is, you're reading this. I don't know if your happy or not; I dont know whether your young or not. I sort of hope you're young and sad. If your old and happy, I can imagine you'll maybe smile to yourself when you hear me going, He broke my heart. You'll remember someone who broke your heart, and you'll think to yourself, Oh, yes I can remember how that feels. But you can't you smug old git. Oh, you might remember feeling sort of pleasantly sad. You might remember listening to music and eating chocolate in your room, or walking along the Embankment on your own, wrapped up in a winter coat and feeling lonely and brave. But can you remember how with every mouthful of food it felt like you were biting into your own stomach? Can you remember the taste of red wine as it came back up and into the toilet bowl? Can you remember dreaming every night that you were still together, that he was talking to you gently and touching you, so that every morning when you woke you had to go through it all over again? Can you remember carving his initials in your arm with a kitchen knife? Can you remember standing too close to the edge of an Underground platform? No? Well fucking shup up then. Stick your smile up your saggy old arse.
A Long Way Down ~ Nick Hornby