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when I met you you lived with your mom.... when we stopped talking, you had been living where I dropped the pin on the map..... you used to love me being around all the time, us doing everything together, and the sex was amazing..... I remember the first time, you looked over at the clock in such amazement and disbelief.... but you never wanted anybody who was called a boyfriend..... I used to call you ashtray..... you probably won't see this, but if you do..... I hope it strikes a chord in your heart. I still think about you all the time and I've never stopped.... I gave you a ring once. I believe it had 11 stones. a guy can hope, can't he..... and I never did the accusations that you threw down..... you had no vehicle when I met you, and in fact I used to leave mine when I would go to work.... but the first one that you got, what's the same as your robust friend's, (the one that hated the feeling of toothbrushes on her teeth) it'd be really nice to sit around with you at least for one evening, ashtray
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