I Set You Apart.
So, I went to a party. It was awful, awful, awful.
I leave the house, and the thanks that I get is a party in a fucking barn. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
. . .
I don't have time for your hello's as I'm leaving. You watched me sit and smoke 4 cigarettes, and you couldn't be bothered to get out of your chair to even ask my name. But, you say hello as I'm on my way out.
Well. Fuck you.
You're not going to come home with me and listen to sad songs.
. . .
I feel like shit. Everything hurts.
I just want someone to take care of me for a little while. Someone to hold me, and ask me if I'm okay when I cough. Someone to yell at me for drinking and smoking while I'm sick. Someone to help me out of the bath tub.
I want someone to read me a story. Or sing along to the music.
Really, I'd just settle for someone to move the hair off of my face and speak in a soft voice.
. . .
The Tylenol PM has kicked in.
. . .
I love you.
(If you think it's you, take it. You need it the most... because I don't know who that was for.)