Well, it looks the time has finally come. I’m currently barricading myself in my room because I know no good can come out of going out into the real world. It’s bright, happy, and the air reeks of love. I’m staying in my dimly lit room. I’ll be safe. I have sustenance. I’ve got leftover Christmas candy, a bottle and a half of barefoot, and the news (E!) to keep myself sane. If it were up to me, I would highly advise a national quarantine for everyone out there. Who knows what that toxic air may do.
I’ve got my phone under lock and key. I’ll hear it buzz, and assume it’s a text from a
gentleman of my past. If I were to use my intellect, I’d say that it’s probably an “are you alive” text from my mom. But at this point, my intellect and sanity is slowly slipping away, just like all my hopes and dreams of having abs by spring break. I’m under attack. Strategically, I think locking my phone up is the best plan. Who knows what damage I could do at this point. I might tweet out something depressing. I might even stoop to finding a last resort, very desperate Bumble date for the night. But my worst fear, and most threatening possibility of them all, is that I just might text my exes with girlfriends, wishing them a “happy” Valentine’s Day. I would never wish happiness on someone who is happy with someone that isn’t me. It’s getting to me.
To put it truthfully, I’m scared.
Morale: KEVIN, IF YOU SEE THIS I STILL LOVE YOU!!!!
Signs Of Danger: KEVIN PLEASE!!!!
I’M NOT CRAZY, KEVIN! .