Meh, to be a one shot. The last one-shot I shall be writing for like, 3 weeks. Im going on vacation in like 2 days, so I won't be writing much of anything. Well, Everything I write will be on paper. For those who are interested, I am working on a chaptered Stan/Kenny Fanfic called Let your love be the death of me. I currently am not very far, but it will be written. This, I swear. And so you know the idea of this one-shot, came from a song called "Shake Tramp" by Marianas Trench so I do not own.

---

Great. Just great. You know everything has gone wrong when Eric Cartman actually feels sorry for you. He said he was so sorry to see a 'wonderful' relationship end. Hell, I thought he was on crack. But what scares me the worst is that he wasn't.

It turns out my boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend of 3 years or so, was cheating on me. That's what I get for dating the biggest flirt in the school. Yep. My boyfriend was the Kenny McCormick. And I still wonder what I ever did to him.

Did I let you down to get that sound
And break my knees to get release
And you needed some just to take you from
And I hit you more
Is your face still sore?

So now I've got to go on with life the tougher way. With Kenny as your boyfriend, you never really needed money. Of course you didn't, you were with the guy that did everyone. Girls,guys, you name them, he did them.

So how can three years with a person be easily forgotten? It can't. And you can't ignore them when they're in every class with you.

--

3:45 P.M.

Kenny just called. He said 'we need to talk.' I already knew he was breaking up with me. I've known he was cheating on me for a little while now. The reality that I knew, just had to sink into him.

He didn't know that I knew.

So I didn't tell him I did.

He just said 'I deserved better.' AKA, 'I wasn't good enough.'

Sorry but I tried
It was never mine
And I can still pretend
I guess it all depends
I'm still a little crazy all the time
But I can try to hide it
That's still mine

My living room now became the room I despised. It was the room we got together in, and the room were we now were. Break-ups were never easy. But having so much stuff from a three year relationship meant a lot of junk that now meant nothing to me.


What a cheap perfume
I hate this room
So testify
But I still tried
And you need that stamp
Little handshake tramp
And you hit me more
And my face is still sore

It's now been about three weeks. Word got out about his and mine relationship. Now girls smack him every time he's within five feet of them, and guys spit on him. He doesn't take it as an insult. He just takes it. He takes it as another 'hate/love' relationship.

Try a little more
a little more
a little more
They slap you like a bitch
and you take it like a whore

He now goes around from person to person, mainly the raisins girl's who are really easy. Anyone could do them. And basically everyone has done them. He does them until he gets bored. According to him, they all are the same. They screech, and giggle, and it's the same adventure each time. It doesn't matter if it's Lexis, or Mercedes, or any of the girls. It's like doing the same person each time. So he decides they aren't worth it.

Upside down
and around
and around
Just another piece
Till you need another sound

I once heard him when he was doing one of them. Each time the girls would hear a moan sounding like "Stan". They'd get mad that he still had feelings for me, and slap him. When he came out, I pretended I never heard him moan my name, and just heard the slapping sound. And then I'd laugh at him. Still loving the fact he misses me, but hating the fact I would laugh at him.

Faze them out
I know what you scream about
Don't let me down

Every time I still look at him, I feel instantly like something was my fault. None of it was. But sometimes I wish we'd go back to the way it was, and me just accepting that he was a man whore, and that even if he loved me, he'd still party, and do whoever, whenever,where ever. And that with me it was making love and with others it was just sex. But I can't change the past, only the future.

And the guilt in me is the hurt in you
And the hurt in you is the lost in me
And the lost in me is the need in you
And the need in you is the guilt in me

It's been a month since we've broken up. And all though we are still deeply in love with each other, I accept that we're apart. And I'm not considered the "ex-boyfriend" anymore. Well I am, but now I moved from "ex-boyfriend" to "a good once in a while fuck."

Sure we're apart, but when we're still doing it, it sometimes feels like we've never been apart.