Aside from that? Everything fucking hurts. I'll write about good things tomorrow - tonight I'm raging at everything that hurts this much. Which is bastard everything. Tonight.
I don't want sympathy. I don't want to pretend that this is worse than it is. But I won't play it down, either. Because this really fucking hurts and I'm tired of it.
It's not that I want life to treat me with kid gloves.
I'd really appreciate it if it could stop treating me with boxing gloves instead, though.