Robert Jr and I are spending 3 weeks apart because of stupid friggin Thanksgiving. I invited him to come home with me but he said The South cramps his style (he has only been in Brooklyn for a little over a month and he is already such a self-important, pretentious little snob). I flew out of NYC yesterday and cried the whole way to North Carolina. I am now referring to this journey as The Trail of Tears. I have been calling Robert Jr all day and he isn't answering his phone (probably because he is too depressed/drunk). I don't even know what he is doing right now. Is he eating food? Is he drinking wine? Is he playing with his little mouse? Is he snapping a rubber band in his face over and over? I can't live with all these unanswered questions. I have never been more depressed in all my days. No one's life is worse than mine right now. ABSOLUTELY NO ONE'S!
Robert Jr, if you are reading this right now, please, find your inner strength and call me back! You promised you would call me every day! We need to stick together, now, more than ever.
Note: Robert Jr and I are both on suicide watch.
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