It no longer the call that matters; it's the text, the email, the blog, the bloody MSN.
I know it costs, and I know it's hard but it's harder reading and typing, wishing I could just rewind all these few horrible weeks away. You probably never think about me like I do, or when you do, you curse at me and swear but yet I do think of you everyday...
The closest we've got the few words of Arial. Too few.
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