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“It’s so complicated,” I say in response to a conversation regarding my frozen Netflix account.
“So are women, but they’re worth it,” my friend replies.
Aren’t we all?

I talked to him today.  It was good to hear his voice, but he sounded different, changed, aged.  Later I cried while thinking of everything I’d done, of who I was now, of how I let him down and hurt him.  He was so good to me, yet it still wasn’t enough.  Would anyone ever be good enough?  Would men forever be disappointing me?  I thought that if I never found someone I would still be happy on my own, but clearly I can’t be.  I always have to have someone or something to cling to.  Some notion that if maybe there’s someone in the world who feels the same way I do.  If there is someone to travel through this journey of life with, then maybe, maybe it’s not so pointless after all.

Maybe these are just drunken ramblings…

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