Filed under: Stupid Boys
I just want to forgot the only boy that broke my heart. BUT the problem is, there isn’t only one boy that broke my heart and, secondly, it is damn hard to forget your best friend, even if he’s the boy that broke your heart. But whatever. Nothing really matters. I hate my school and the French and that’s about all that matters right now because I was drinking at literally the worst party I have ever gone to, while trying to piece together the series of events that led me to being at that party at that moment. And I couldn’t do it. So instead I ended up at Espiritus, talking with the owner as he called me beautiful and I squirmed awkwardly out of his embrace. And now here I am. 5am, sick, despondent, and broken-hearted. Ain’t life grand?
And, no, I don’t have a drinking problem – yet (just an emo problem):
I wish when my heart was broken,
the words would flow free,
but it seems, the break just dams it up
damning me to a flood of tears.
