I’ve been alone and rejected my whole adult life, and it’s still a fresh insult, still not healed. Twenty years of this is enough. When can I either stop wanting what I can’t have, or get it?
Pathos doesn’t suit me, and I hate broken shit.
I grow bitter, and dyspeptic, and I burn.
Be My Blog 
honk
I hearteth you, iggy. It’s no fair you should be sad this way. I wish I could do something about it.
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Re: Guh
That’s so melodramatic. I blame movies. They give people this idea that love has to be painful or difficult to be any good, and it’s really just bollocks. Sigh.
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