Him.>the simplest sentence I've ever spoken that unravels its "crescent moon" beauty like losing the "greatest gift a woman has to offer." Otherwise, I'll have to buy the next guy a sweater, since that's the next best thing next to my virginity.

You'd think you were broke if you landed yourself in your really crappy apartment after your "trial and error" run of being an outlaw fails and the one person you could relay you're deepest secrets, emotional thoughts, and to which you entrusted your greatest and deepest secrets with care to the point of which you loved her to death. Brutal death. Deep, dark death.

Yeah...I'm losing my mind.