Musician

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I fell in love with this boy, almost over night. It wasn't just that his words were smooth, but his flow on life. The first two weeks were only a few messages a every couple days on Facebook messenger, we met through friends. I mentioned that I was going on an interview that Thursday and come to find out he already worked there. I was hired as a cocktail waitress and he was a chef. Boy would cook me snacks all through my shift. I bucking love food. He'd text me to come to kitchen or meet him out back, sometimes surprising me at my station. Sneaking a kiss or an ass grab in my sexed up outfit at this hot little bar downtown. God he made me feel so cucking special so fast. He'd be out back with a cigarette waiting for me after he text, sometimes he'd pull me quickly in the alley to smoke some bud between the two city buildings. He'd lean me up against the wall and we'd just kiss in the shadows late at night escaping a few minutes from the bar rush. Even though it was a typical July night in Virginia, the air outside was refreshing with him. After work we'd talk for hours, "philosophise". At times he'd sing reggae lyrics to me with passion vibrating from his voice. Of course we'd sometimes be drunk. Just sitting by the river or walking down the street on our way home after the bar closed. But it was impossible to love me. He said I was too good for him. He was already falling in love with smoking crystal meth. Of course it was the beginning, but things got carried away. He stopped showing up for work. Felt sick a lot. He sat me down two days before he disappeared from town for a bit. Said that no matter what happens between us, I was special and said a bunch of positive shhit. He wiped my tears, I knew he was about to run, and hugged me tight. A few months later he confessed his new love ducked things up between us and a lot of people he loved. He just called to confirm that I was still kicking ass and let me know he was doing alright in his new life.