And it seems to happen every year with out fail. The annual falling. The time of year when I meet a guy that seems to change my world. The guy that seems to make everything feel better. The guy that hangs the stars on the moon, the guy that makes everything better, but then a couple of days later you found out that he fucked your best friend and secretly wants to kill you. Well maybe it’s not that serious, but it seems to happen without fail every fall. I just don’t understand. This seems like my millionth post about some boy, but it never gets any better. The pain never seems to subside. It’s sill as jagged and painful as the first time.

Everyone tells me that I need to wait until I leave Statesboro, but I see so many gay people dating and in relationships. It would be nice to have that connection with someone.

Eh.

I’m done, for now.

Good day!