Dear friend,
I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand
Listen and understand
Listen and understand
And didn't try to sleep with that person at the party even though you could have. And for that they call you King.
But when I called out to you
"Psst King!"
No one responded. I wish you would have. Which brings me back to why I'm writing. You're supposed to listen and understand
Listen and understand
Listen and understand
But maybe you don't really listen to what you're being told. So I pray to God you listen to what you're written.
I wanted to tell you about the boy I met who once told me eggs is spelled EGG'S and its not even possessive. He asked me
"Can you teach someone to write?"
I guess I didn't answer him soon enough because he added under his breath,
"she'd be a writer of plays."
It was then I realized he needed to be THAT someone for me. After all, he was my idea of beautiful. Talking about writing with a deep respect. Thinking about plays. We had so much in common.
"I love you."
I'd whisper after each kiss.
"I love you too."
He would hold me with his arm around my waist and the smile I fell in love with.
Before long, he stopped holding my waist. No longer told me he loved me too. Wouldn't even smile. Instead he'd talk about her. How beautiful she was and she would write plays that would make Shakespeare jealous.
"She is just incredible."
He'd longingly sigh with a grin I hadn't seen in months.
Can you tell me why? Why he broke my heart for a girl who hated writing? She didn't actually even like plays.
I guess that's just what I get for falling in love with someone who slept with me at a party simply because he could.
There you have it King. Thank you for listening and understanding.
Love Always,
Vicky Winters
P.S I'm going to start spelling it EGGS again. No apostrophe.
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