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A fucking week of socializing? What kind of fresh hell is this?
Cosmos are not my favorite cocktail, but they’re still better than beer, and Jeremy seems to get some kind of joy out of ordering them for me. A cheap shot at my masculinity, I guess, but I’m confident enough that I’ll drink whatever the fuck I want without feeling threatened.
Frankly, seeing people in person is overrated. Online communication is just fine for me most of the time.
That’s why I’ve stopped bothering with relationships. The women I date never understand me, and they always try to turn me into someone I’m not.
I asked Jeremy because I wanted him to suggest Will Stafford as my fake boyfriend, and that’s exactly what happened. I feel manipulative.
People who trash novels because they contain swear words confuse me. I don’t fucking understand them.
It was at that moment when I realized my parents didn’t have my back, not really. They would never understand me, and they didn’t even care that I was being bullied.
My parents probably seemed like the perfect doting parents to most people, but they just didn’t get it. All I wanted was a family who would actually accept me for who I was, rather than talk about stupid shit like “getting me out of my shell.” I like my fucking shell, thank you very much.
“Men say women make no sense, but usually I find the reverse is true.”
