Improv-ing -- Week 9

I'm going to improv Green pants by Sttephen Grahm Jones:

We met sometime in October a few years back at a mutual friends apartment over some under-aged drinks and great conversation and we met for coffee a week later.

I scared you, and you left quickly.
You bought some pot.
Numb so your feelings.

Those butterflies in your stomach floated away with the cloud of marijuana smoke.
You called me a few days later because the smell of curiosity doesn’t leave your close as fast as the smell of ganja.

We had coffee, shared laughs, and had great conversation for two weeks straight then we were official for a year then the butterflies came back like locusts because you meant everything you said and didn’t mean to.

You bought some pot.
Numbed your feelings.
The smoke and the butterflies left out the window.

This time the fabric was cleaned of the fumes and replaced with a new girl that wears cheap perfume and makes you numb without the pot.