8/1
I went on yet another first date. It was fine. I get to tell the same fucking stories, ask the same questions. I'm a journalist, I can ask great questions, but I just don't want to anymore. Maybe I was just in a shitty mood.
I must have been tired. I cried on the way home. Why won't it stop hurting?
There are now 4 women who told me they want to be with me. Me. The fat kid who stutters, and is the king of social anxiety. I find that so amazing. Despite that huge ego boost, I still want the worst partner in the world. The shittiest woman who committed the ultimate betrayal. The one who not only doesn't love me, doesn't want me, doesn't even want to be in the same room as me. I'm broken. She broke me. I don't know if there's enough Krazy glue in the world to put this humpty Dumpty looking mutha fucka back together again.
I miss every fucking thing about her. I know she isn't the same person I married. I miss that woman
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