A love story
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A Love Story, if told correctly, will do nothing less than ruin your heart.
Friday, September 20, 2013
You May Never Own A Laundry Basket
Whose oil for your eggs? Whose towels for your hands? Whose butter to melt on top of whose toaster? Whose utensils to cook with? Whose dishsoap for me to use for the glasses you give to me to wash? Whose bike to ride to work? Whose money will cover the rent, aside from the two hundred and fifty dollars? Who writes the check? Who will clean the house? Will you drink tap water or get a brita for yourself? Will your home have no rugs, no kitchen table, no cleaning supplies, no trash can, no couch? Whose toothpaste will you use to brush your teeth? Will you tell them too how you have to steal floss, because it is too expensive? I hate to leave you, with nothing, apart from the thrift store microwave we went halfsies on before we moved in, but I also hate you.
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