i would like my flannel back but i don't know how to ask for it and i really don't want to talk to you but in my head i know that means you've won in a way i really don't want you to win
can you give me back my copy of Paper Towns i know you didn't read it, but i don't care anymore if you read it, maybe you'd love me or maybe it's the opposite, and maybe if you loved me you would have read it but i don't have the time to think like that anymore
what i really want back is the two years i spent on you treating you like a droplet of tortured heaven giving you all of me to fill the cracks in your heart but the real cracks were in your head for letting me give you everything, and never giving back you didn't even say thank you
but i'd settle for the book and the flannel
alternatively titled: *******, constence. give me back my ****.
god, i literally hate that i made excuses for you. **** i hate thinking about this. the more i think about it the more ******* mad i get. i'm done.