A little text I wrote in the bus last night: I’m fine. Of course I’m fine, I’m always fine. I’m happy you got the girl I wrote two fucking songs about. I would’ve never gotten her anyways. It doesn’t hurt, I knew it wouldn’t work. I’m just a child. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt. I don’t hurt. I’m not crying. I’m not frustrated. I know how I’m feeling: fine. Why would I wanna throw my phone on the ground? Why would I wanna rip my skin off? I’m happy for you. I love this for you. I don’t need anyone to hug me. I don’t need anyone to listen to me. Of course I have someone who would. If I was a little heartbroken, you know, hypothetically speaking. But of course I am not. I saw this coming. So I don’t need anyone to listen to me.