Today is her birthday. My first love. My greatest joy and my greatest pain.
I think it's almost safe to say she ruined me for other women. Subconsciously I now expect them to meet her level of expectations. What we had I can probably never have again, but I still hope. (What else can I do?)
The problem with being with someone who was one of a kind is "replacements" are impossible to come by.
In the spirit of spite for breaking my heart, I wish that everyone she ever fucked becomes impotent and extremely allergic to cigarette smoke. Then they'll know how I felt.
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