Fiction

Yes but I’d drop anyone for you. I flick through profiles and they’re all very nice but they aren’t you. And I can’t write. Can’t write this. Can’t say it. But we’ll end up married my dear. End up married, miserable with all those ugly children. We’ll have those mundane jobs, and you’ll have your car that you’ll spend too much time polishing. And I’ll still have this pen. 

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