Outside Looking In

Oh, you sickly in love people. You people that fart puppies and rainbows. And OH EM GEE life is perfect TRA LA LA.
I want to punch you. In the throat.
I get so EFFING sick of sitting at home all night, alone. No one to talk to. No one to snuggle with on the couch. It’s so depressing.
I know, I know. Ben and I had that brief reconciliation. And thing were good, for a few weeks. Well, as good as they can be when there is 5.5 hours by car in between you.
Maybe I don’t necessarily want to punch you in the throat. Perhaps I’m just a leeeeetle bit jealous.
But throat punching would make me feel better.