No. It wasn't a very good reading because while I acted like I was reading about her I was really reading about you. Though I now claim your love to be plastic, store-bought, unreal, fake, it still disturbs me deeply that you were able to just take it away from me while I physically shook and convulsed in your arms with tears streaming down my face. Though I claim it publicly to be bad and unreal I'd give my very last breath and my very last day to feel your breasts rest against my chest once more and feel your kiss and your breath on my neck and your eyelashes flutter on my cheek. I'll never forget you driving away and I'll never forget the feeling I felt as I watched your tail lights disappear. I had never felt more alone and here I am, still alone, staring at this old computer screen, drinking a cheap beer, listening to a crappy punk record. These were the things I claimed to love. These were all I needed. I'd trade them all in for just one more night an one more time, all to feel your love that no longer burns for me.