I hate this partucular trope. I’ve never wished it on myself. Not being there, when it happens. You see it all the time in tv, for ‘dramatic affect’ and I cry stupid angry tears every time. Ha ha life, you got me again. Here’s your stupid, angry tears once more.
I’m 2, 364 miles away. An 8 hour flight. A 3 day drive. I could have been there over Christmas except I was saving money to move. Could’ve said one last goodbye, except that was over Skype with the promise to see each other next Sunday. This Sunday. I hate California.
Rhio's Tunglr Stuff 