Between the Windows of the Sea

How do I get more gay guy followers? I’m pretty sure the majority of my followers are lesbians (and don’t get me wrong, I love y’all more than you love each other) but sometimes I need my followers to call me cute and ask me to post slutty pictures of myself and stuff.

Cuz, y’know, that’s what Tumblr’s for.

I like my men how I like my coffee, bold and rich with a fine grind.

Seriously, it was just one hot guy after another all day at work today.

I saw three different hot Asian guys, two different hot latino guys, and even a hot white guy.

And I’m not even attracted to white guys.

But I could tell he had terrible taste in music.

I could just tell.

I miss our trips to Waffle House.
I miss giving you quarters for the jukebox and waiting as you pick a bad Kelly Clarkson song.
I miss loudly singing Beatles songs with you in public.
I miss our mutual obsession with ABBA.
I miss shyly holding your hand in public.
I miss, when holding hands, you kept them warm in your coat pocket (because my coat pocket was too small).
I miss trying different foreign foods with you.
I miss sitting in your passenger seat, watching in embarrassment as you rolled down the window and sang at the top of your lungs to the car next to us.
I miss when you would meet me for lunch during my break.
I miss meeting you for lunch in between your classes.
I miss doing cute “couples” things with you.
I miss cooking huge bags of chicken nuggets with you.
I miss our staring contests, even though I always lost.
I miss our “CHHHHHH!” sound-making contests, even though I always won.
I miss our intelligent conversations about politics, food, social issues and really anything.
I miss our stupid conversations.
I miss the good morning texts.
I miss the good night texts.
I miss the texts you would send me just because.
I miss cuddling with you.
I miss holding you in my arms.
I miss you holding me.
I miss the gentle kisses.
I miss the passionate kisses.
I miss the way you would bury your face in my chest whenever I told you that you’re beautiful.
I miss the look you would give me whenever I would brush the hair out of your eyes and hold your face in my hands.
I miss making you laugh till you cried.
I miss our tickle fights.
I miss the way you’d cry “I don’t believe youuu!” whenever I promised not to tickle you again.
I miss how excited you’d tell me you were every time you got to see me.
I miss how happy you used to make me.
I miss how happy I used to make you.
I miss when we didn’t try to make each other jealous.
I miss when we actually cared about each other.

I know you’re no longer following me on here and I know you’re not really talking to me anymore, but if you happen to read this, I just want you to know that, above all:

I miss you.