... like a caged panther.
For the record, can anyone expect me to be happy, or even anywhere near fine, after all that has happened? So, if you're happily making fun of my misery or scoffing at it or anything along those lines, well... that's your opinion and problem.
I am not needy, desperate, wuss-like or anything like that.
Nor am I whining.
I've lost the woman whom I love through some goddamn messed up situational stack-up. And one of my closest army buddies to a goddamn brain tumour.
Therefore, I believe that I'm allowed to be miserable, if I don't have the right.
And do not tell me to move on.
I can't even bloody grieve!
So lay off!
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