Kiss me hard before you go. Summertime sadness. I just wanted you to know; that, baby, you're the best.
She said it was just a fling. A spur of the moment. A summer thing.
And that was ok with you. Meaningless sex with no strings attached. Breath thieving kisses with no extra expectations.
Yeah, you were really into this.
Her body was kissed with the beauty of Aphrodite. Her full lips always painted a hot red and her hair like that of a raven's feathers.
She'd whisper all sorts dirty things in your ear, like what she'd like to do to you when you got home.
She lied to you when she told you that, when everything was done and through, she'd fade from your memory and it'd be like she never was.
She lied when she said you were the only one.
But, the lies made her even more exciting.
Yes, she was the most exciting thing you'd done in years. So much different than those other dumb broads who'd swat your hand away when you got too friendly.
She liked you. She liked lying. And she liked sex.
The two of you were like animals, diving into each other any chance you could.
"You're such a stud," she laughed, tugging on your platinum blonde hair and shifting her gaze from your chest to your face.
It's the way she looked at you. Her eyes always held a number - the number of days the two of you had left.
That's why you never looked her in the eye. You didn't need the pain. You didn't need the worry.
You'd never felt any sort of feeling more than a sexual urge for any girl before. That's what you convinced yourself she was: nothing but something to put it in.
But two months of non stop passion dictated your heart to feel more than that. Soon, you found you were starting to fall in love with the girl with the scarlet lips and you just couldn't look at her the same.
Suddenly all you could see were the numbers in her eyes and you knew you were falling.
Too fast for comfort.
Before you knew it, she was all you thought of and nothing else seemed to matter if it wasn't even remotely related to her.
And she'd never know about the truth in your lust filled groans.
She'd never tell that when you grabbed her hips, it meant more to you than it meant to her.
You knew you had to get away.
Going on like this was only going to end up hurting you.
But she was like a radiant light, drawing you towards her like a gravitational pull.
On the day she left, you became less of a man that you ever could.
At the train station, she told you she was going back home to someone else. That you knew from the start this was just a summer thing.
"Is it so bad that I love you?" you pleaded with her just as the train rolled into the station.
"Not at all," she said. "It always feels nice to be loved."
"Then why the hell are you leaving me?"
"I told you this was just a summer thing. Two months. Pointless sex and no extra bullshit. You agreed."
The train stopped and she was ready to board.
"Stay," you begged as she set one foot up on the steps.
"Let go," she hissed, embarrassed of the scene you were starting to make.
"Kiss me before you go."
So she did.
"Will you think of me when you're in his arms? Will you think of me when he's kissing you and taking you and making you moan against his neck? Tell me, will you think of me every time he grabs your waist and sticks his tongue down your throat?"
"Goodbye," she said, ignoring your desperation. "And if it's any reconciliation, baby, you were the best."