Something isn't clicking. The pieces are here and they're made for eachother but everything is just, reject, reject, reject.
Yesterday? Two days ago? The last time I saw him still breathing he asked if I had his cigarettes, and I thought of them sitting at home, tucked in my purse on my desk.
I want someone to say, "This is really shitty Amanda, and I'm sorry that you have to do this." I want someone to say, "It's okay to cry."
You know the other day at work I got frustrated at three year olds because they get to cry and I don't? How pathetic is that?