I watch the movies. I watch the chick flicks, where the girl is in despair, thinking about the guy or being depressed and she doesn't think she can live anymore. Then, like magic, he appears. He reachs out and holds her while she cries into his shoulder, and her world is right again. I remember that night, that summer night, where everything was going wrong. I was crying at the park. And like magic, he appeared. He was there. He held me and walked me home and he loved me. He was the perfect boyfriend. He was my perfect boyfriend. The irony is, it's so much worse tonight, and there's no chance of him magically making it better. Especially since he doesn't even have the time to talk to me.
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