In which the Universe can eat a dick because I can’t.

Dear Universe,

I realize your goal in screwing up my non-romantic world this week may be to make me realize I should stop thinking so much about men.

But the joke’s on you, Asshole — all I want is to have the men hug me, or alternately have them fuck the holy hell out of me so I can feel something else besides sad. And then I realize no one wants to do those things, and it makes me sadder. So you? Can go fuck yourself.

No love,
Smug

P.S. Yeah, yeah, I’ll learn that I’m stronger than I think and can get by with a little help from my friends and all that happy horseshit. FINE. You’re still an asshole.

P.P.M.S. It’s possible this may be hormone-driven.

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