Lonely as I am, together we cry. ( i dont ever want to feel like i did that day)

Purple lights beamed at me from out of the poster in the wall. Yellow, green, blue, orange, red, it was the most beautiful portrait of Jimmy Hendrix I had ever seen in my life. An urge of discovery was creeping at my fingertips and there was nothing I wanted to do more then to stand up and see what new gorgeous things I could find waiting for me around the corner. I had talked to her thousands of times before, but this time it was different, she gave me a feeling of peace, like everything we would ever need in life was right there, right then. Music took over our conversation, and a new energy was taking over my body. The peasant skirt that came below her knees was white and it moved with every last one of her curves, the natural blue shirt caused her eyes to beam at me, and her jean jacket followed her arms in the air as she elegantly waved them in the air. I needed her to complete me and I would never be the same if we had not crossed paths soon again. Weeks had passed and no call, when I had finally gotten up the courage to make her come to me again. We ended up going to another party that night, but she was not radiating beauty this time. I fed her drinks until she could not walk anymore, and she said she would walk home. (She would rather get a minor walking home, then getting into a car with a drunk driver.) I convinced her to come back to my dorm with me. Down her throat I poured more beer and I continued myself. This mess in my room was on the edge so it was only natural that I finish the night off with something to satisfy myself. _I never called her again_
Just a little story I made up about an asshole. : )