Way back in my youth, I wrote a poem about waiting up all night for a cheating girlfriend to get home so I could give her a piece of my mind, but how I never got the chance because she didn’t come home at all for several days. It moved from that moment of realizing someone's late, to relaizing they are very, very late, to realizing they aren't even coming home at all.
I can’t remember the entire poem, but I remember a line about listening to the furnace going on and off endlessly all night long.
It ended with the line:
“I’d like to wait up for you, but I can’t; I have to.”
(I was too upset to sleep; I knew where she was and what was going on.)
Man, that girl nearly drove me nuts. I’m glad I moved past her eventually. :(
Ah, youth. I’d never want to go back and repeat all that drama over again.
I probably still have that poem in an old book somewhere. I don't think I'll go look for it though. :D :D :D
ziller Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > That feeling when you decide not to answer the > phone the next time she calls… > > … and she doesn’t call…
Is she someone so stupid, or knew you so little?
You predicted that she would call. She predicted that if she did, you wouldn't answer, or, if you did, it wouldn't be rewarding for her.