I’m on the other side of the fucking continent and I still feel like you’re tugging on my heartstrings like some demented puppet master. You say you miss me too. I know we’ll never be together and honestly, I don’t harbor any thoughts of wanting to be in an actual relationship with you (that would just be disastrous like a tornado tearing up everything in its path in a violent, stunted phase) but I still love you. I’m afraid I always will. I think I just wish you’ll choose me over her for once in something. Well, other than sex.
And today, I come back to you, tumblr, and confess that I’m drunk and high on vicodin. I haven’t done this in 3 1/2 months. I’m more depressed than ever and it would be so easy to take the whole bottle. I know I’d die if I do but I’m a coward.
I’ll just think about it.
been a while since I’ve last posted. Things have been digressing..progressing..moving forward..through the time continuum what-the-fuck-ever really damn fast.
