I am maybe being unnecessarily harsh on Boy, at least in my head, where I am haranguing with sarcastic yet witty comments... reality of my life is that all haranguing is necessarily accompanied with emotional overload and me sobbing like an ickle baby in a corner somewhere and feeling like a knob. Hypothetical haranguing is providing me with more satisfaction than a real life harangue ever could.
All this means is that I am annoyed at an imagined slight and am pissed off at an imaginary Boy that has wronged me somehow, imaginarily perhaps.
Grrrrrr. Kava calm time methinks. Home, bed, novel, staring at the ceiling, feeling resentful.
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Thanks so much for commenting! You rock my tiny world. For realz, man.