me. And you say I’m not there for you. And you think people who like me are greedy pigs. Yet you get so ecstatic whenever I show up. And you work so hard to get me to come over. But I keep you in a constant state of worry. And you hate dealing with me. And no matter what I do, it’s never enough. One minute you act like you’ll die without me, and the next I make you feel like a filthy whore. You know what? I’m done. See you later, freak.
