February 6, 2011
We were outside in your garage smoking a cigarette and I was telling you about my ex boyfriend and why I was so guarded. I was over him completely but yet I was still so shaky. I couldn't figure out why. You listened and smiled and told me, "You dated douche bags. I would never treat you like that." The words were distant, scripted, like you didn't believe them yourself. The air was too familiar. Little did I know you were right. I DO date douche bags because you turned out to be one of them.
Labels: diary, scum bastard, sweet boy turned sour
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