I play this sick game with myself where I think about the me’s of the future, and the me’s of the past.
Back at the end of May, I knew that the me of the time was loving life. I was excited, I had great things coming. I spent hours in my room packing. I had busy days. I knew that eventually i would want to go back to those times. I was gloating. I knew I was making the future me extremely jealous.
I hate that me. Because the present me feels very broken. When I’m in Florida, I have an entire life. I have close friends, a loving boyfriend, a purpose. I work hard. And then I get picked up, and dropped back off in a life that keeps me very down. I don’t have much here. I don’t have friends here. They live all over the country. I don’t have a family that I can really rely on, or feel loved by. I live a very lonely life. It’s like a week ago, everything was color, and now all I see is black and white.
My heart hurts.
i may not be your cup of tea but i’m your 10th shot of tequila