  "One time I sent an e-mail to Peter Pan and Tinker Bell nearly kicked my ass! " Can my life get any more screwed up? Apparently it can, because at exactly 10:46 pm last night my phone rang, and when I saw the caller id my organs shifted.
It's insane to think that of all people I had been expecting to call me so late it would be him . Him being my ex-boyfriend. The ex-boyfriend that I had happily not had a decent conversation with since we broke up about nine months ago!
What the fuck?! I picked up the phone! I had to admit; I was curious. He had stopped calling me eight months ago, after I ignored his calls which were frequent, and not for the first time in my life, he answered in that tone of utter depression, defeat, and patheticness(for lack of a more descriptive word) in his voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Turns out, as I should've known and knew as soon as he asked if I was dressed, that he was on my doorstep. It's nearly eleven at night! I'm in my fucking bathrobe! I get dressed, against my better judgment, because I know he won't take no for an answer, and I go out there.
The first thing he does is hug me and my face is against his neck and I can smell that scent of his that brings back every memory, every touch, and I nearly scream. I missed that scent. It was one of my favorite things about him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He refused to directly talk about what's bothering him, classic of him, purely him. I eventually figure it out. It's everything. Typical, I assure you, just typical, but we spent three hours talking.
I was barefoot and shivering and he kept making advances, and I kept saying no. May I give myself that bit of pride. But I had to admit. I was weakening. I was actually glad when his little girlfriend called and I was put back in perspective. But God damn him! I'm thinking about him again! I don't want to be with him, but I want to be touched so badly last night. Oh fuck! I dunno what else I can really say. I'm fucked. I know it Be back later, Faylinn 
