the tango

I love this song.  I’m jealous.  I wish I could write music.   I’ll go see the brilliant performance in December, I’ll watch them shower him with praise… and I’ll watch them lose interest when I mention my boring studies.  Maybe I should major in music.  That’s always a conversation starter.  Maybe I should go to CHINA.  Maybe I should bite myself!

I love him, though.  Of course I do.  And I’m proud, of course I am.  We’re different… very different.  There are certain things that he can never do that I’m good at, and vice versa.  The thing is, I really want music back in my life.  It’s tragically satisfying.  I want to play the bass/harp/cello/clarinetagain.  I also know that’s not possible because I don’t have money. 

It’s OVER.  I’m so relieved.  I never want to speak of it again. 

I’m not studying for the test.  COME WHAT MAY… I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL THE END OF TIME.  Or something to that effect.  You can’t study for AP tests.  It’s unnatural.  It’s sick.  It’s twisted. 

I need to see them. 

He’s so cute! 

 

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