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Not that it wasn’t serious before. Because it was. And not that he wasn’t a fucking creep. Because he was. But as is my upbringing, particularly my cultural upbringing it is my nature to endure. Apparently, I learned that some bad shit went down with his family. And I’m sorry for that. But No.

I want the fucking keys to the house and all your shit needs to be gone.

I was on the couch last night. Greg comes in.

Greg: What are you watching.

Me: Singing in the Rain

Greg: Can I watch it with you?

Me: No.

Greg sits down on the couch anyway.

I fell asleep. But you know when you are asleep, but you’re not really asleep. I have sleeping issues. But I can be halfway asleep and still absorb what is going on around me. I’ve had full on coherent conversations with people while half asleep.


Anyway I knew he was still on the couch and we were at the part of the movie where gene kelly does the Broadway melody part. And I remember, the lights going off. And all I felt was my hair being pushed back and lips on my neck and then my hand came up, and that must have spooked him cause he walked away.

I don’t care. He’s a fucking creep and ALL his shit needs to be gone and the locks need to be changed.

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