There isn't a cure for unrequited love, I know; I've searched for years.

Bring me back to March. Knowing what I know now, which pill would I take?

Fuck the world for making me believe that romance is real.

Why haven't I ever asked, "What's your definition of love?"

I'm back in Bloomington. Hurrah. Here's something I wrote on Friday night:
( My week in Eau Claire was boring )

This is a bit of a conversation I had with my mother (not all direct quotes) over the phone a couple nights ago:

( Phone Convo )