An All Time Low Letter.

To my only one.

At first, you had me poppin' Champagne; the next best thing to me. Then I found out that you were a straight-up hustler. I had no idea that it was time to break up. All I asked from you was if you could light the way to my paradise. But you were too busy with Noel and Jasey Rae at the beach to hit the lights. I knew that I was damned if I do ya, damned if I don't.

While on my last flight home, Stella sang me lullabies while painting flowers to a coffee shop soundtrack she made while in Vegas. I'll always be remembering Sunday. I kept that girl a daydream away. I put up my walls, let her sick little games go around me in circles until we all fall down.

I finally said "Hello, Brooklyn," and met Holly (who turned me on). She showed me the party scene, and said "I feel like dancin'," so I told her to forget about it. It was too much work to get lost in stereo again. And if I didn't need therapy then, I really needed it now.

I was running from lions, screaming "Break out! Break out!" All because I couldn't do the one-two step. I know some people say to just let it roll. But I say get down on your knees and tell me you love me. You know I'm bad enough for you, so why not let the umbrella pull you into the air, as if you were weightless?

Have I told you about my adventure with my toxic Valentine yet? She told me that she liked me just the way I'm not. We kissed under a paper moon, six feet under the stars. At that point in time, I said, "Dear Maria, count me in." We say summer, but they say say we were just a time bomb. I wished I would have listened to them. But I was so shameless, all I said was "This is how we do" and I turned my back to those hometown heroes, national nobodies.

A party song is not only a walk of shame, it's also poison. Like a ringmaster, it'll shout, "Come one! Come all!" But don't listen. It's just sticks, stones and techno. I guess what I'm trying to say is that actors will break your little heart, and all you can say is, "Keep the change you filthy animal, I'm just livin' the dream." Hold onto those memories that fade like photographs; stay awake, dreams only last for a night.

You are one of my heroes, and while I don't know if you want me or if you want me dead, I hope that you will still have the guts to return the favor. If not, then merry Christmas, kiss my ass.

--Mandie June