Dear T,

I'm an idiot. Just forget about me.

You don't care about me. I'm fully aware of that now. I'm just a 50 min timeslot to you, just a paycheck, just a file. You probably laugh at my childish confessions, at my feelings for you, as you cuddle up against your boyfriend.

I hate life. Why isn't it fair?? Why can't I be happy for once? Everything else is going so damn miserably too; why can't I for once actually be with the woman I want?!