I can't stop, not now, not when it's all about to burst! into magnificent steel magnolias.
Sick as I am of the weather, I trudge on through the bleary morning to find that old newspaper, bringing back memories of times gone by and daylights turned into the fires of Hell in retrospect.

I see you've been keeping quite busy, with your darling all snuggled up next to you with that mug I liked and a book I left at your house. Funny thing, really, because I'm sure I left those for you, and not the aura of contempt you seem to be trying to give back.

Face it. We had a good time, but you grew tired of my obsessions and I grew tired of your image always around me. Thank you, though, because laughing in the face of danger has never been easier.