take me somewhere nice

Looking bad at my track record of infatuations, boyfriends and loves... none of them took me anywhere nice. It was all about the fleshy, sweaty, sticky, non-stop, sex. Weekends between the sheets in my own apartment. Only come up for air. And food. Back at it. No walks in the park, or visits to a museum, or concerts, or movies... just days and nights of lustful sex. Maybe a cigarette after. Some meaningless conversation. Songs. More songs. Songs that would lead to some more sex. Another cigarette. Silence. Sleep. Sometimes I would wake up to an empty bed and the fantasy was shattered. Other times I would wake up and leave. I would walk around town early in the morning thinking about that one perfect night that would live in my memories forever. Do they know who they are? Are they reading this? Do they know if they were infatuation, boyfriend or love? I never told. And I never will...