My love-life is like living in an airport terminal. Girls come, stay for a while, I share a part of my life with them and then they're gone. Almost all of them want me to come with them....but I decline each time. Sometimes sooner than later, the next one comes along.
All of them leave some stuff behind...CDs, T-Shirts, underwear, NYTimes Sunday Subscription....just piles of crap that I inherit and fold into my life. I would like to believe that my "terminal" life is a part of gigantic airport with a hundred terminals and I'm not alone...y'know...a hundred billion bottles washed upon the shore. Same Sentiment.
I'm 30. I'm Single. I'm Normal?
Posted by anonymous at January 4, 2008 6:51 PMyep
Posted by: at January 11, 2008 4:27 PM