I'm sorry, I spent today on the drive with King of Donairs because you can't get a real Halifax donair here in Vancouver and oh, don't they know it. But that's okay. I bought an armload and then we sat in the car with copious handfuls of napkins and shitty cans of Diet Pepsi for the full 1987 effect and ate them off our laps, bringing the rest home for later.
(Spoiler alert: 'Later' was as soon as we had our coats off.)
I missed a chance to go to Rosemary Rocksalt (my second favorite love, just kidding, I love everything technically) and now I'm perusing subscription New York bagel deliveries online.
I've had four hours of sleep. I am a fucking mess but a Full and Content mess, fuck you very much and Sam says I'm going to go to hell because I haven't been to church at all and advent is just flying by, picking up speed as it heads downhill.
You should be the one to talk.
I'll see you there.
Good, because I've missed you. I give up the fight and let him have it only so he gets my point, shoved deep into his chest. I don't like Matt. I used to love Matt but then he hurt Sam over and over again. Matt is Sam's Cole and someday one of them will die from heartbreak. It can't be Sam. I will shelter him with my spindly arms but he won't be the one. He was meant for a greater life than this.
Or maybe this is the greater life. After all, we have donairs. Real ones. Not ones with lettuce, cheese or chicken. Christ, Vancouver.
(Spoiler alert: 'Later' was as soon as we had our coats off.)
I missed a chance to go to Rosemary Rocksalt (my second favorite love, just kidding, I love everything technically) and now I'm perusing subscription New York bagel deliveries online.
I've had four hours of sleep. I am a fucking mess but a Full and Content mess, fuck you very much and Sam says I'm going to go to hell because I haven't been to church at all and advent is just flying by, picking up speed as it heads downhill.
You should be the one to talk.
I'll see you there.
Good, because I've missed you. I give up the fight and let him have it only so he gets my point, shoved deep into his chest. I don't like Matt. I used to love Matt but then he hurt Sam over and over again. Matt is Sam's Cole and someday one of them will die from heartbreak. It can't be Sam. I will shelter him with my spindly arms but he won't be the one. He was meant for a greater life than this.
Or maybe this is the greater life. After all, we have donairs. Real ones. Not ones with lettuce, cheese or chicken. Christ, Vancouver.