Truly
I think I’ve killed every ounce of belief I ever had in love. Friendship and fucking is apparently more my stride. What the fuck. I was definitely misled by all the stories, the movies the god damn poetry. I’m not impressed, but I don’t feel all that sad. It’s like I’m accepting what I’ve always known. How poignant. And fucking stupid. Note to self, would you please try to retain one good friendship without fucking it up, literally. Sweet.
