I don't know why but I've been desperately wanting to ask her a question lately ... Why are you with me? Call it a severe attack of lack of self confidence if it must be labeled.
This morning I wake up and she's not home; she took the kids to school and made breakfast plans, and she has to work at 12 today in St. Louis. I won't see her again until after midnight tonight, when I'm off work.
I'm angry and upset about all this. She could have woke me up and asked me about my work schedule, but didn't. For whatever reason(s).
Instead of telling her all this I'm posting it to this journal that she doesn't know about and internalizing it all like I always do. And to compound matters, I'm force multiplying the depression bender I'm flirting with by watching "Seeking a Friend for the End of the World."
Some days I fucking hate being me.
Posted via LiveJournal.app.