Fine. I know I’m 18 days too late and this post is a shout into the void, but I want to thank the Universe for all the wonderful things that transpired last month. Best. Month. So. Far.
You can be satisfied but not happy, and that’s okay. Perhaps if we just focus on finding the meaning of life, we might have a shot at living a fulfilling one.
I’m taking back what I said in my previous post that the poem from that guy was the sweetest, most beautiful gift I’ve ever received on Valentine’s Day that’s not from my boyfriend.
When I opened the gift, it immediately knocked me off my feet – inside was an intricately made paper rose and a three-page-long poem that the 17-year-old me would remember for the rest of her life.
So, one rainy day in the middle of December, I was wallowing in depressing thoughts and drowning in the pool of my own misery when a fucking wonderful idea hit me: a project that my bored friends and I would enjoy.
Perhaps I need to be constantly reminded that whenever bullshit comes knocking on my door, the best revenge is to close my eyes and pretend that it never happened. Or is it?
Gillian Flynn has been kind enough to destroy the lives of her characters to teach you a lesson; be modest enough to take it from her.