The adolescent in me wants me to say that I hate my life. I don’t, though. I’m just having another hard time.
Yesterday’s date brought up all kinds of grief-related anger and today after work, I was zapped of energy to do anything other than cry and cry and wish Chris could be here. And then I actually, just for a split second, thought he was here.
I’m waterlogged and my head and neck hurt. And my heart hurts.
I am clearly depressed.
I can’t believe this happened.
Regressed,
Shneed
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment