.moving on.

Mode shifting.

Everything was perfect last night. From meeting his childhood friends to making my friends know about it. Nothing could have gone wrong.

Until I saw his chubby-drama-princess, who tagged their relationship as "complicated", popped into his cellphone again. I could imagine a big siren blowing my eardrums apart and a question mark making its way to my sweaty forehead.

They're somewhat patching things up. Okay, so that leaves me being a resident of the trashbin--again. And where else will I dispose myself after their on-and-off-distant-relationship but in the reserve list--again.

Damn it. Fuck and Suck it.

As if I'm not really used being treated that way. It's always been like this. Who am I to complain? If not for this bitch, everything with my match is perfect. Spices.

Well, she's one hell of a spicy seasoning. She burns everything I built. Damn her.

Most of all, damn he.