(no subject)
So I broke up with him.
And he stood outside my door yelling my name, except nowhere near as seductively, soothingly as Stanley Kowalski.
I feel like today might be the day to go pick out my rat, but I have no way of carrying all the stuff back home. I'm all alone, and so torn. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with him, don't want to snuggle with him, he still thinks it can work. And I feel like I still love him, but as a friend, not the same way anymore.
Fuck.