i have to do laundry. i have to harass the bank. i have to get to the subway and wait for the stupid bus and try to get everything situated before i figure out how i’m going to pull off laundry.
i don’t want to go home. i’m afraid of going home. i don’t want to fight, i don’t want to cry…i don’t want to miss him so much it makes me crazy inside.
god. i miss him.
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