my love will last as long as the hickey lasts

It’s almost expired.

January 16th.

That’s when the milk expires. 

Sustaining normality will only last for so long. I can already see cracks in the foundation. 

Fuck. I’ll try to hold in the Awkward, but just like Good, it’ll find it’s way to the top. Awkward will always trump Perfect Pleasantries, and Good will always trump Evil.

That’s what Newton said anyway.

That’s all I really got from physics class, and it isn’t even right. It isn't even right.

I won’t talk about you. I won’t.

I won’t sit by you, or think about you, or pay any attention to you.

Don’t take this personally - or maybe do.

My friend told me a story about a carton of milk named Fred.

She got attached to Fred. But then he expired, so she had to throw him away.

That’s why I don’t name cartons of milk.

Some people can roll with life, and spoiled milk, and Awkward’s triumph. But the last time I had spoiled milk I projectile vomited all over the car.

... I'll never admit it aloud, but I secretly wish you'd waited for me.