Dear Diary,
I'm going to the poetry thing. I almost smiled when I saw Ashton's face light up. Here's how the conversation went down:
Ashton: *walking into room* Michael do you wanna go-"
Me: yes
Ashton: okay- wait what?
Me: yes
Ashton: seriously?
Me: yes
Ashton wore the biggest smile as he told me to be ready in two hours. It's been two hours, and I'm writing before I leave. I took a shower for the first time in forever, and the warm water actually felt really good. The mint on my tongue from my toothpaste was really overpowering but it felt amazing to be clean. I almost smiled. I fixed up my hair and washed and brushed it, and it's as fluffy as ever. I don't look good, but I don't look like a corpse. My outfit consists of a black long sleeve and a hoodie on top of that since it was probably going to be cold outside. I had on black skinny jeans because I always wear black, and my fucked up converse were on. I think I'm ready. Ashton just came in and said it was time to go.
I'll update you tomorrow,
Michael
YOU ARE READING
Poesía
FanfictionDear Diary, My dumbass fell in love with him. Great fucking going, Michael. {a Malum fanfiction}
