She is. She truely is. I miss her.
Got drunk yesterday. Hardly had to pay for any of it. Nice. Had a bit of fun, almost. Almost got her out of my mind for a while. And today I don't feel as bad as I usually do when I'm hungover. It's just the same feeling of pointlessness. Of doing things because doing them is just as meaningful as not doing them, so why not?
I feel like I have been sleeping in my clothes. I hate that feeling. Right now I want to be in bed with my cats with a book and some chocolate milk and maybe some backrubs later on. But it don't work that way. And I guess it will have to be OK. Some day. But right now I just feel hollow, old and worn out. So old, so tired.
Yeah, well... Bite the bullet.
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