cute waiter from restaurant last night: He likes that I like rocks. He has a warm smile. He came by our table every few minutes to talk about bones and hiking and such. It was in a town by the mountains I like to visit. He gave me free coffee, I gave him my number.
And he just texted me.
My mind keeps searching for someone to point my finger at, yet I know placing the blame won’t effect the situation, for what as already happened has already happened. It makes me feel so insecure knowing it was one of my closest friends who kept my secret, then put it in the wrong hands, though.
Simple, yet valuable lessoned to be learnt here. Love everyone, trust no one. I knew this all along, I guess the rush of drunken nights and finally having a secure group of friends made me a little hazy, though