Being reminded that love is just one thing I'm probably never going to have really fucking sucks. This is not in response to anything in particular, just reality creeping up on me again. I hate being lonely. I hate my empty bed and empty arms.

Also, I hate the winter time and walking outside to a pitch black sky at 6pm reminded me of what I have to look forward to for the next two months.

I want another tattoo. Goddammit.