Lame post about being f*cked over by stupid boyfriend again.

I feel sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick

Stupid boyfriend has gone on a holiday without meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

There's nothing s'prising about that I guess. I should stop complaining because I only do it to myself.

How about I go out on Saturday night, get totally liquored up, and find the man of my dreams?

I totally want to get home at 8am, after pashing the face some off the future Mr. Martie.

Seriously, I'd give up Career, I'd give up New Couch, I'd give up Microwave Popcorn, if I could only bloody find someone that respected me, had time for me, loved me.

There are some kilos to go until I have the confidence of going at it alone. And as much as my man-desperation goes, I'd much rather go it alone, because I'm just beginning to see what type of person I am, and form proper opinions and views, and IT'S EXCITING, DUDE!

I think they call it growing up.

I prefer to call it growing into myself.

But I would very much like someone to say that they loved me, just once. It's been over three years since someone said that to me, and apparently I've been in some sort of relationship for two of them.

Is this emo? Fuck, I hope not. This is just me having trouble expressing myself, because my stomach is doing somersaults, and has been since 7am this morning when his plane left.

I hate hearts. I like kissing much more.