I am like Henry VIII when it comes to how I handle love and relationships – minus the beheading.


Last night, after fucking up what could have potentially been The Best Relationship because of my inability to communicate coupled with my ability to lash out with precise cruelty, I tried to continue to fight of the depressive funk I’ve been falling into for the past few weeks by watching Showtime’s “The Tudors”.  Which, I will admit was probably not the best decision that I’ve ever made since I’m officially convinced that I’m a horrible, horrible, horrible romantic partner and friend. It’s a fact of my life at this point that I am just a mean + horrible person who occasionally does nice things.




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