If there was a contest for the world's worst boyfriend, I think I'd be one of the leading contenders. I'm worthless at reassuring her and making her feel better. I can never say anything that's of any use; it all sounds hollow and meaningless, even to me, even though I sincerely believe what I'm saying. I know the distance between us is part of the problem; but I can't shake the feeling that I'd be just as useless if we were together right now. There's something bitterly ironic about someone who claims to be a writer finding himself utterly incapable of using words properly.
I think I'm going to get drunk and abuse random idiots in the Music forum for the rest of the night. It won't make me feel any better, but it might at least provide a little amusement... and when it's over, I'll still have these feelings of self-loathing and despair. I just ******** hate myself right now.
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Banging On A Frying Pan
A random collection of whatever thoughts happen to be going through my mind at the time...