By frog princess
Date: 6 March 1998

11At Night And Layla

To guido, who's fucked up a good thing

It's 11 at night, and I should be in bed, or studying for the French test I'll
flunk tomorrow. Instead, I'm listening to "Layla" and wishing that someone would 
write a love song to me, that they wanted me. Because you sure don't. I'd like 
to put a guy on his knees, begging for me, but that won't happen. You won't 
even touch me anymore.

I want you so bad I can't stand it. And I don't understand how you could stop
loving me. You didn't even tell me. I didn't ask you what went wrong this time
because this time I knew I'd only get the "friends" speech. And I have no way to
get you back this time. The situation can't change here.

I know . . . you only want to be "friends." But I don't think I can handle your
version of "friends." You never call me anymore, you bastard, but I'd be willing
to bet you're still calling your friends that you've never "crossed the line"
with. Some friend.

And I just don't think I can bear to only be friends when I want you so bad and 
you won't touch me because of where it will lead.

So, your wish is granted. You won't call me, and I won't call you. You've just
lost all of me. Congratulations.