#girls who block their exs are the bravest soldiers in the fucking world
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“Hey- whoa man, you haven’t been this tiny in a minute. Are you alright?”
I am not alright.
I am half an inch tall, hopping from letter to letter on my phone, composing a text draft so dramatic it could be on par with Greek myth.
“I blocked Sam,” I say. My (comparatively) giant friend lights up. “And then I unblocked them. And then blocked them. I went back and forth on that til I was about a foot tall.”
“Dude.”
“Now I’m trying to text them and man, the phrasing, it’s-“
And with that, I’m snatched up by two fingertips taller than me. They’ve always been gentle.
“Okay, you’re staying with me til you’re over your ex, buddy. And til you’re a bit taller.”
(And they’ve always been firm, when they’ve needed to.)
They set me on their shoulder, ignoring all protest as they grab my phone and delete the poem I had been composing. My swears don’t even phase them. I know it’s for the best, but dude, that took me like, an hour of cardio to type.
#*twirls hair* i think i should be given a war medal. some kind of heroic award#girls who block their exs are the bravest soldiers in the fucking world#im sittingn here like. its been a month!!! what do u mean no contact means forever. hello#anyways i think i need to write something absolutely fucked up and tragic. for no reason.#maybe return to my beloved oc marty
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