I’m fine on my own. I like my space and my things. But sometimes, I don’t like being in this big house alone. Many times, I don’t feel secure here. I wish I could call you to come over and be with me. I wish I knew you’d come if I called.
The Ex Files
Because texting your ex is a bad idea. Calling your ex for any reason is a bad idea. Drunk-dialing and drunk-texting are especially bad ideas. But you have to do something, and you're driving your friends nuts.
Hence, The Ex-Files. Not really a journal of breaking up and moving on, but a collection of the things you think when you drive by an ex's house and the car's not home, the way you feel when they don't call when they say they will, the things you want to ask or say or scream or carve into their car doors. The things that you have to say but are better left unsaid. This is the place.
If you have a story/quote/rant/thought to share, email me: thingsyoullneversay[at]gmail[dot]com
Hence, The Ex-Files. Not really a journal of breaking up and moving on, but a collection of the things you think when you drive by an ex's house and the car's not home, the way you feel when they don't call when they say they will, the things you want to ask or say or scream or carve into their car doors. The things that you have to say but are better left unsaid. This is the place.
If you have a story/quote/rant/thought to share, email me: thingsyoullneversay[at]gmail[dot]com
Oct 23
