Sick again. Got a hell of a sore throat that feels like something pricks its walls every time I swallow. And the fever is here. Yay. NOT. And as the fever comes, cue the deadly duo: depression and melancholy. Dark thoughts and numbing loneliness and antsy restlessness jumble up together and it’s draining and tiring and sometimes overwhelming. It’s even more perfect that this happens on Saturday night, highlighting how single and alone I am. Yep. Definitely depressing times.

Sure, some guys offered to visit. But I just don’t think I’m up to handling their egos and demands, not when I’m at such a low point. Maybe I should give them the benefit of a doubt, that some guys can actually be caring and thoughtful and kind. Recent experiences have proved otherwise, though, and as much as I’d like to believe that there are decent guys out there…

Goddamnit every man is broken, every man is broken. How quickly I’ve forgotten again.

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