Saturday, January 31, 2015

sometimes

Sometimes, the important conversations that happen end up being somebody's verbal drug/drunk text terror the next morning...and you know it when you see the look in their eyes as they try to ask what happened without asking what happened...
and you just have to say to yourself
Fuck this shit ~
And let it go.
If it's real, and important enough, that conversation will happen during the stone cold sober moment.
Meanwhile, I have a lease that's up in 6 months and I need to make plans on where to be and what to be and how to be. 
Sounds fine. 
So why does my heart hurt?




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