Remember that time we ran together on the beach? That was the only good time we had together. And even that was cut short by your problem because you're phobic of cardio. Your body dysmorphia got in the way of our relationship, Trey. You love the gym more than you love me, and it hurts.
You never stopped talking about how "skinny" you thought you were. It makes me feel like a real fat-ass, T. Seriously. What you should really be concerned with is your breath. But I guess you spend too much time lifting weights to brush your stanky teeth.
And the gifts. You were always too busy thinking about yourself to do anything nice for me. The only thing you gave was an eating disorder. Thanks for that.
What I'm trying to say, Trey, is the flame died. I'm sorry.
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