(no subject)
I really love how your answer to me being depressed and crying in bed is to come in an hour and half later (after, I've noticed, you checking out girls on google and FB. Good old view histroy, right?). When you come in and ask what's wrong and I tell you that I feel like shit because of X, Y, and Z that you've done, you yell at me and storm out of the apartment; off to do the fun things I asked you to do with me this morning but you had "already done things yesterday and just want to stay inside". Then go tell me to bring you home smokes and food.
Fuck you.
Fuck you.