I had a dream I was murdering this girl's ex-boyfriend with a giant rock through his skull. I'm not envious, I'm not mad. I'm disappointed. She told me she wasn't just another statistic. She told me she was different, and for some reason, I believed it. I'm exaggerating, I'm freaking out. He probably slept over, They probably fell back in love. They probably argued. I probably layed in my bed with my eyes open for a few hours wondering why I even bother to ever move a muscle.
When is it my turn?