The craziness is just freaking crazy.
And I had two beers and have not buzz at all. I have no tolerance for alcohol so that makes not freaking sense. Defeats the whole freaking point.
I hate being me. I hate putting up with me. I can't imagine anyone else would.
And then he asks that stupid question.
What's my ideal man?
Um, no one. Elijah because he's not here.
Or winged tat, and it's not a wing at all, because he talks dirty and I like it.
I can't have good in my life.
I'm poison. Poison can't have good in it's life because it's poison.
Question answered.
It doesn't matter if he is real or not.
I don't deserve him.
I can't have him.
I need to crawl back into the black hole and stay there.
Going. Going. GONE!
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