Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Fever You Cant Possibly Sweat Out
October. November. December. January. February.
That is how many months i haven't seen him. 5 months. 5 months full of hell and crap. 5 months of just sitting in front of the TV, hoping for an interview, or something. Im sitting in front of my computer reading my emails, hoping that i might hear from him. I might go out tonight somewhere, maybe go shop with my sister, or something. That would be fun. Its almost my birthday, my 20th birthday to be exact. In 2 days to be even more exact. Today is March 27. I walk up to my calendar and look at every single day that has gone by without him. He left on October 28, to leave on tour. From then i haven't seen him.
Him. Who is him. Him as in Ryan Ross. Ryan fucking Ross. Guitarist and lyricist for Panic! At the fucking Disco. Im mad at him, he promised to be back in a month. A month passed. His emails began to grow less and less until they finally stopped. His cell phone didn't answer, was always turned off. I just gave up after a while, checking, hoping maybe there was a chance. But no. Never anything. Everyone told me to move on, but i just cant. I just cant leave him. Oh well.
That is how many months i haven't seen him. 5 months. 5 months full of hell and crap. 5 months of just sitting in front of the TV, hoping for an interview, or something. Im sitting in front of my computer reading my emails, hoping that i might hear from him. I might go out tonight somewhere, maybe go shop with my sister, or something. That would be fun. Its almost my birthday, my 20th birthday to be exact. In 2 days to be even more exact. Today is March 27. I walk up to my calendar and look at every single day that has gone by without him. He left on October 28, to leave on tour. From then i haven't seen him.
Him. Who is him. Him as in Ryan Ross. Ryan fucking Ross. Guitarist and lyricist for Panic! At the fucking Disco. Im mad at him, he promised to be back in a month. A month passed. His emails began to grow less and less until they finally stopped. His cell phone didn't answer, was always turned off. I just gave up after a while, checking, hoping maybe there was a chance. But no. Never anything. Everyone told me to move on, but i just cant. I just cant leave him. Oh well.
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