It fills me up with that gooey sap you feel late at night when I think about things that are really special to me about you. Sometimes I just hunger for more, but I keep that a secret. The mail you send is such a tease; I like to imagine additional words on the page. Words like “you’re accepted” or “you’re awesome!” or “don’t worry, she still loves you!” but I know they’re all lies. You never called after that one time, I visited you thrice, but you never come around anymore. Tell me, was I just one in a line of many? Was I just another supple “applicant” to you, looking for a place to live, looking for someone to teach me the ways of the world?
http://talk.collegeconfidential.com/university-chicago/834874-why-dean-why.html
Started a bit of a controversy though, it seems:
