my life, typed up.

drivenhearted:

“Go to sleep.”

“I’m still drunk right now.”

“Hah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Your drunk phone calls—I hate them. I hate them so much that I would storm into your house and hit you with a glass bottle of beer, laying down unconscious than to be on the phone with you. Sometimes I don’t know why I answer your call anyways. I guess I’m just hoping that maybe we can have a real conversation the next time, but I’ve come to a conclusion that I’m just someone who you can talk to until you’re sober. I wish you would have called someone else.