“If I were single, I’d be pretty sad about now.”
140 characters? Try 140 emotions.
This is why you shouldn’t stalk your ex on Twitter. You find out suddenly, with no warning, that he’s not single any more. What? When did that happen? You’re still supposed to be mourning me, you bastard.
Who is she? Where is she? When did she…how did she…?
He’s dating someone. He’s. Dating. Someone. And I’m…not. Why?
Why am I single? Why isn’t someone tweeting about me? Is because I’m a nag, like he said? Or is it because of that jiggle of fat, that I hate?
It’s because you’re a horrible person.
What? Who said that?
You can talk?
Um, I’m in your head. So make that a horrible and stupid person.
I’m NOT stupid.
Okay. If you say so. Though frankly, I make all the decisions around here so I should know.
Okay….so, you’re telling me I’m a horrible person. And that’s why I’m single?
Care to elaborate?
Sure. You’re a horrible, disgusting person. You’re selfish and your maggoty core is visible to anyone who sees you. You’re so low down, you’re disgusting. This is why you’re alone all the time. And when you do invited out, you complain about being alone. You’re a boring, ignorant bitch who knows nothing, does nothing and inspires nothing.
I…I. If you’re my brain, how can you be so mean to me? How can you think these thoughts?
I just do. And you’re stuck with me. I’m making the decision to sob for a few hours now. And post that, we’ll look at some more tweets.
But…maybe I should stop. And go to bed. Life still lies ahead of me. There’s still hope.
There is no hope for you. All hope and all light and everything good is over for you. Cry. Then I’ll think of something else to numb the pain.