I feel neglected.
I'm available for you to pour yourself into anytime you want, yet you never touch me for weeks at a time.
I never complain about you going out and partying, even though you never want to tell me about it afterward.
I would never judge. I'm just happy to hear about your life, your dreams, your desires, your nutty ideas that everyone would laugh at. But you don't want to share your thoughts with me. Fine.
Men look at me constantly, so it makes me feel empty that you give me scarely a glance to update me on how things are going.
I'll just go on telling the same old stories everyone's already familiar with. I mean, they're still pretty good, if a bit stale now.
I can't wait for you to return to me someday when you want to tell me something new.
Of course, if you need someone to inspire you, then call Alex sometime.
p.s. Alex is in the shower and doesn't know I'm using his account. Don't be jealous. I just needed for a man to put something into me since you never do anymore.
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