You Low Down, Dirty

Son of a bitch. As soon as we got close, you just walked out that door, and never looked back. Didn't we have something going on? All of our letters? Our correspondence? That time I think I saw you at Metro Center but tripped and dropped my newspaper down the escalator and that old Grandma kicked my bag, and then I sort of hid behind the brown pylon because I was so embarrassed reading "Trains to Shady Grove" over and over just so it wouldn't look like I was insane? What about that?

I've been under a rock for awhile, I know. My job has decided to go from "feel warm and fuzzy because you work at a non-profit" to "here are seven thousand projects to finish by tomorrow, why are you going home it's only six. thirty pm". Plus, I also seem to have, unwillingly, I might add, become addicted to Grey's Anatomy, something that shames me to the core (more on this unsettling development soon). I know we haven't spent as much time together as we could have. And our correspondence, well, it started to feel forced, didn't it? I'm not the only one who felt it, I know. I'm sorry for all that has happened. But we could have worked on it. We could have fought for it. I never suspected I would have to find out from the papers.

I stopped paying attention to Fenty after I voted for him. I should have known better. Imagine! I voted for his shiny bald head, assuming it's luminescence would lead DC to a brighter future, never suspecting he had one hand on my shoulder and the other gently caressing your buttock. I hope you're happy. Everything you did will fall apart, and your smiling face will slowly fade from the posters on the S2 bus as surely as that jaunty smile will fade from my heart. Your quote in the paper- please. Just sad. "I think I can help more people than I could working at Metro!" I can just hear your sing-song delivery chiming out the words in an attempt to convince us all you're not a whore. WHORE! I BELIEVED IN YOU! Fine, Dan Tangherlini, take your new job. Take it and like it, but just remember, you've walked out that door, and the doors are closing. Please move to the center of the car. You had me at Metro. Bitch.

Heartbreaker, Ass Shaker, Administrator