backspace, backspace, backspace. the blank page...the blinking of the cursor, waiting for me to get my shit together and throw some words out there. something, anything. i'm sure that my most frequently asked question of "what the hell happened last night?" tells you all you need to know about my current life status. been holding back the tears for so long now that they're trying to escape at the most inappropriate times. "don't catch feelings," he said. "just don't." i think the part that hurt most was that i know he's right, and i respect him for being honest. probably not ideal words to tell a drunk emotional girl at two am in the middle of finals week stress, though. at least i can say i've been more of a mess. not that this isn't messy as fuck, but i've made worse decisions, i'm sure. it's the same answer it's always been: turn it off, zero fucks, i got this. and that's exactly what i'm going to do. brush those feelings right the fuck off and rock the hell on. let's do it.