pickledverse

I just cried over Friends with Benefits. And no one even died! I was simply swept up with my own forever-alone sentiments. This seals the deal – I’m one of those girls now. You know – the ones who memorize cheesy romcom lines and cry at the end of the film with a gallon of cookie dough ice cream. Romcoms are supposed to make you feel good, but instead of making me feel giddy and filling me up with silly hopes of love, it made me feel more alone. God do I have issues.

Why am I so sad! Shit. This calls for a rehab. I’m on a massive relapse. Not depressed, but not happy either. That’s got to be the worse.

It wasn’t even just a hiccup; it was full-blown-someone-died-of-leukemia cry. I knew I was gonna cry. I cry every time. Because I’m melodramatic and despite my obvious annoyance of marriage and whatnot, I do believe in prince charmings. Yes, I just said that. I’m so sappy. It’s just as good as saying that I do believe in fairies (Jeremy Sumpter’s Peter Pan way with matching British accent). Fuck, I feel fucked up. I’m still hungover and I’m listening to Closing Time – on fucking loop!

And it’s unbelievable how they managed to insert Deathcab’s I Will Follow You Into The Dark in a romcom, and twice at that! Give me romcoms and Deathcab anyday, and you’d find me in a fetal position at the corner of my room belting my heart out. SHIT SHIT SHIT. I can’t believe I’m ranting about this. I find the most pathetic excuses to weep. And almost always never of happiness.

Worse is that I don’t even know who I want to take me home.