Some asshole just broke your best friends heart. Now you’re wading in the water of her tears scrambling for some way to dry off. But she’s drowning, and so are you.
Of all of the things she could’ve been friends with under the sea…
I just thought, “I’m so lonely.”
The friends I had are still the friends I’d have again if I could do it all over.
For those of you struggling with holding onto life–it gets better. It really does.
I contribute my last remaining glimmers of sanity to the ones I refer to as “best friends.” The difference between a best friend and a friend is vast and incomparable, so it’s time to recognize this and thank them for it.
There’s a few things we can keep in mind to alleviate some of these natural insecurities (and to avoid any episodes of drunk/ugly crying) when hanging with your possibly deserving, but still enviably, successful BFFs.
When I dig that hole in my mind and don’t seem to be coming out, what I need more than anything is for you to toss me a rope.
Here’s the idea as well as the incentive: being hateful isn’t hot. It indicates insecurity and unhappiness.
She furtively tries to set him up with another member of her gay posse, which produces disastrous results, quickly learning that gay man + gay man is not a simple recipe for success (or sex).