While this has been fun all these years, hanging out with you, snogging you, going outside with you, I’m afraid it’s time to say goodbye (actually, I’m just writing what they’re telling me to write).
I am sick and tired of having to excuse myself from the table while my friends look away from me and pretend not to notice you in my pocket. I don’t even hide it anymore. I pull you out of my pocket before I step outside the door. (Because I love you, and I need to smell like you).
I am sick of people looking at me as they walked past and coughing so disgustingly at my feet, then looking at me like I was doing something wrong. I even saw a girl who pinched her nose, trying not to breathe, It was actually quite funny, because when she finally did breathe, she was gasping for air. (Contrary to what these people are telling me, I can’t breathe without you).
I’m tired of having to buy cigarettes from the dairy at triple the original price (from the 1980’s) with those packaging that puts you in a bad light.
So again, I’m really sorry to leave you but I have to move on. Goodbye, Garette.
PS: I was just joking, don’t go. Please.
PPS: I don’t actually smoke, and it doesn’t follow the prompt exactly but I thought this was a pretty good story to pass around.
PPPS: The girl who doesn’t breathe while people are smoking around her is me.