Writing before bedtime, is like eating before bedtime. Something you shouldn't do unless you want an upset stomach. It's even worse when you're sleeping alone. What better way to make you realize just how big your bed is, when all you can think about is who's not in it anymore or who you wish still was.
Moments like these I should just shut the computer off, throw the blankets over my head and press my face into a pillow until I am quite over missing every single guy whose ever let me down or let me go, much to their own mistake.
And it would be just my luck, that I'm damn good at depressing the hell out of myself. One of those skills that ranks high at the top of my list, between independent and stubborn, a soft unprotected underside, somewhere just below layers of complete bitch when provoked. Ain't it good to be me ...
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