I called Alfred to tell him where I was and that I would call him once I got home... he was in the car, on his way to the bar...
Probably getting drunk and bringing some slut back to his bed.
Probably.
I hate my thoughts. They like to make me think bad shit is going on.
I tried calling him like 20 mintues ago. His phone is it out range... so I can't get a hold of him. Pretty convenient, no?
Meh.
Why is love such a crazy thing? I'm so afraid that Alfred is going to wander away from me...
Why does love have to hurt like this?