I didn’t take that blow to heart, I’m not so easily moved as I am amused. I’ve had worse tastes left in my mouth, you are the orange juice after the toothpaste- the sour girl STP sang about once. I promised myself long ago that I’d never write about you again, you were then and always will be such a waste of time. How could you be the only person that would make me think that 200 miles away from the bay isn’t enough space, enough distance from you. “Is that what you call tact? You’re as subtle as as brick in the small of my back. So let’s end this call and end this conversation.” Your visiting rights were revoked June of my junior year, if there was some possible way I wish I could put a restraining order out on you. You are now officially not allowed in the same vicinity, the same city as me. So dear CAIT, what do you think now? What do you think I’m going to say when you ask to visit me? You’re old news, the cold shoulder that always got colder until you had no one left to turn your back on. These things just keep getting easier for me to say.