i'll wake up in the middle of the night and watch chelsea handler alone, not that we ever watched it together, but i'll laugh at it hysterically and still feel so empty. why do things have to be so real? i was riding my bike home today and i crashed into the wall on the bridge that goes over the highway. i bounced off it and i immediately thought about how much i miss you. how much i've missed you. but also how all the hurt does no good. life is so redundant and the pain plays games and the will to control the hurt is worthless and sends a shot of embarrassment through my body.
check yourself before you wreck yourself.
no seriously, think about it.
if the product is placed on the shelf it has to be sold. and you were just delivering what you sold. i'm not gonna get into how i bought it, let's not talk about buyers remorse. i'm friendly, to an extent, but this was much worse. i opened up my wallet, while you went through my pockets. and i didn't feel robbed until too much time had passed where i had nothing to charge you with. you left me in peril, i did more than dance with the devil. we dined, and i tried to rebuke your shuffling deceit that you used against me constantly.