If You Wanted Me, I’d Leave You Alone

If you pretended you wanted me, you know, I’d probably go away. Don’t you know that by now?
If you pretended you wanted me, you know, I’d probably go away. Don’t you know that by now?
You already have a home. And those three a.m. texts won’t change anything.
I go to restaurants alone. I sit on the steps at Grand Central and look up at the ceiling, the only place in New York where you can see stars.
It was the first cold day we were together, and we had never snuggled before. With trepidation, I linked my right leg over yours, and rested my head on the center of your chest.
I wish I could tell her that she will never be cool, but that someday, it won’t matter.
We begin our practice, and all eyes are on you, Yoga Douche. Not because you skillfully transfer from Warrior Three into Standing Splits, but because you are wearing a bright green t-shirt with the words READING SUCKS emblazoned in all capital letters across the front. Who are you, Yoga Douche? Why are you dressed like a 90’s bully?
Intro to Dodging Phone Calls from Sallie Mae Like She’s Your Psycho Ex-Girlfriend