I've been thinking of giving you your stuff back. Putting it all in a big bag, doing the whole crappy one hour commute to your place, and dumping it on your doorstep. Maybe I'll ring the bell, maybe not. But i dont know if I want to waste my time doing that. It doesn't affect me like it should.
It doesn't make me cry or anything. It doesn't even remind me of you. And I'm keeping the stuffed animals- just because I like them. Does that mean I'm over you and it's only because of loneliness and boredom and habit that you enter my thoughts? Who knows.
Thank you for getting me into lifting weights, though. And taking me out of my stupid habits. I'd never have looked this good without it. Sometimes I wonder what your reaction would be if you saw me with another man. Would your cockiness kick in, I wonder? I built your ego so bad that I know you now think you're the hottest thing alive. Especially with all the clothes I picked out for you. You'd probably laugh. You'd probably say something stupid like "Oh I bet hes rich".