I'm wine-drunk in the kitchen with my boyfriend and his mom. I love these people. I love hearing their stories. When I was a sad little girl not even too, too long ago, I never dreamed I'd have a family of my own that loves me. The only one absent is Onyx, who is sound asleep in the bedroom closet. We're waiting for pizza. The CSR of Domino's knew we were all drunk over the phone. This nigga asked if we want cheese when I said "Only ham and pepperoni on the pizza." My boyfriend and his mom laughed loud as hell in the background, so I said we were all drunk to make this nigga feel better. We are, though. I'm hearing stories about Mr. John's (My boyfriend's dad) friend Floyd. I'm texting an old coworker from this shitty sales job I only stayed at for like a month. It's nice to be alive. I hope that after quarantine me and Nadia, me and Drew, me and all the people I love will link again.
I'm legit in awe of how happy my life is in comparison to how miserable it used to be. I can't say it's completely unexpected. I'm working on a book that needs to exist soon. I love you. I love myself. I hope that all of you in need of healing find it or that it finds you. Please, please know I love you if you love me. It's simple. It's all so simple. Goodnight, y'all. 10:52 and signing off.
Also I miss the strip club. A lot more than I ever realized.
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