Pretzeldom

Add accidentally charging things to my ex boyfriend's credit card to the list of things I am humiliated about. The craziest and saddest part is his card account was still under my name on Amazon because unlike him, I didn't delete every morsel of him out of my life like he did every morsel of me. The second craziest and saddest part is that at one time he actually loved me enough to spend that money on me. Now I'll be returning it so he can land his next coffee date. I've achieved human-pretzeldom and what's worse? My mother just holds me and laughs and tells me how completely adorable I am. I have a dog that slobbers, an uncanny ability to always say and do the worst and most inappropriate thing at the worst and most inappropriate time and I get to add another heaping pile of hate to my plate. I hate breakups but I hate love more. I hate that I loved someone so much that deuced out on me and I hate that I turn into goo because I am bound to the eternal hopelessness of romanticism. That last sentence made no sense but it's irrelevant. Dear Jade, Dear Jester, Dear Pathetic Puddle of Goo, Dear Fairytale Writer, Dear Ms. You'll Never Have a Husband or Real Job, Dear OCD, Dear Me,


  There's gotta be a point where you're actually worth something. Will you please for the love of God go out and find it?