Jul 30, 2013 03:48
maybe this is a better outlet than my journal currently, I think hand writing anything would be a disservice to my state of mind. hand writing takes a lot of time anyway, and I get discouraged.
fuck. what the hell do I want, and what the hell do I put up with? how do I make all of this work? Jill and I, in jest, were talking about raising a baby together because I think I want one, and because we're empowered females. it was interesting. I accidentally left her at the bar recently because I needed to eat, and he agreed to eat with me, and I just neglected to remember to go back and collect her.
hello, ex boyfriend? he used to pull an all day drunk all the time, and I'd show up on a Sunday night to collect him, after he'd been texting me nonsense all day, ready to play damage control and get him out of the bar and into bed.
I meam, with her it isn't the same, but I am no one's mother. I am not here to clean up. if you can't find your way home
I don't know. it isn't up to me. but I feel like shit because she's my best friend and not my boyfriend, but whatever. at some point I have to have my own life.