And the anger turns to heartache. I try to eat my dessert but the chocolate sauce makes me sick. I’m waiting for the phone to ring. I’ve been waiting for how long now? I’ve lost track of time. I’m not sure if it’s been twenty minutes, half an hour, an hour. All I know now is the familiar echo of Microsoft Word’s automated “saving your file” bells,
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*hugs to death*
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Yeah but I'd rather be on an emotional rollercoaster rather than have no emotion at all, wouldn't you?
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