I don’t want to leave. He’s my first love. And the truth is I’m never going to love like this again.
With enough craftiness, I can too make these plates that will remind me to live, laugh, and love when all my life makes me want to do is die, cry, and lock myself in the bathroom to make hate-filled poops.
Too bad he left his personality behind in Buttfuck County or wherever it is that he came from.
Excuse me, I signed up for sex, not CrossFit.
If there is no advice on how to make myself look inoffensive to society because my baseline is already disgusting to the world, then do I just curl up into a ball and die?