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In his weak moments, he says that he still loves me, that he misses me. But somehow he only finds his way over when he wants to fuck. There's always a little bit of obligatory friend chat, then straight into rough, empty sex. He's not even really trying to hide that he's using me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it.
i once bought a used text book. on the front cover was a yellow strip of tape with the words "USED USED USED USED USED" scrolled across in big black letters.
i stuck that piece of tape on my forehead and took a picture.
every now and then i go back to look at it. i don't think that back then i felt quite as used as i do now.