tumblinas.

Must. Vent.

I want to know why, if 3 weeks later you were going to fly to fuck another girl, you would say you were in love with me. Remember how awkward? Remember how I said nothing and just stared into my wine? Remember how I told you I didn’t think you knew what that meant, and you were so angry? Why? It doesn’t make sense, to expend that effort, to say those important words, to try and fix the mess you made by saying, I’m in love with you. You think it took guts, but guts would have been to say, “I just spent the weekend in Tahoe with her.” I should have left the first time I caught you.

I am infuriatingly stupid.