I am. So. F***ing. Lonely.
I miss him so much. I got home from town this afternoon, and curled up in the back seat of my dad's truck and fell asleep. I woke up crying. Fell asleep again. Woke up crying again. A million memories were running through my head. Him smiling, laughing, holding me in the loft of that building, hugging me under the streetlight and telling me he'd come back to me. Kissing me.
My mom came to check up on me. Of course I told her nothing was wrong. I was just tired. Of course she saw the eyeliner stains all over my face, but she didn't press about it. I walked into my grandma's house like the living dead. Ate a bit, then laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling for a while. My grandma asked what was up. I told her, and barely was able to get his name out of my mouth without crying again.
It's been two fucking months since he fucking left me for some skinny Yankee bitch, and I still fucking cry about him. He fucking doesn't love me, doesn't miss me. Didn't even care about me. Why the fuck do I still cry? Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck. Why did he have to use me like this? Does he not realize how much it fucking
hurt me!?
I just want someone else to make all this go away. Nobody fucking likes me, though. I'm fucking irritated. Sorry for the strong language, but I'm just damned angry.
