"I miss my wife, tails." I say, staring longingly at a picture of a grown ass man.

oh no oh no please not this post please

reblog to get your bones rattled at the dubious convention

basically selfshipping

the beauty of self-shipping is you will write yourself hundreds of love stories or hundreds of tragedies or hundreds of what ifs and why nots and never agains and yes always but in all of these, you exist boldly and inevitably.

my most toxic trait is i fucking love work gossip. i play neutral not to be the bigger person or take the high road but to hear slander and hearsay from every side. two coworkers complained about each other to me in the same afternoon and i nearly blacked out from the rush