blog, Amsterdam, journal
Sometimes he’s just not that into you. You send a text hoping for an elaborate reply on how much he misses you. Or at least any reply at all. Instead you’re left with a big fat giant ‘read’ on your Facebook messenger.
Cue social mortification.
I had a melodramatic breakdown about a week ago (which you may have caught on if you read the previous post). But I guess your 20s are just filled with existential dread and crises, one after another after another until you hit 30! I’m presuming they stop by then, right? Hopefully by the time I have my own flat in NYC, where I will write and live a private life with my dachshund called Jimmy.
So now the emotional tidal wave has flattened out and I’m beginning an upward loop. It’s almost as if I went so far low that I’ve been catapulted to…
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