You've told me before that you care about me as much as you love bleu cheese dressing. That hurt me, more than I care to explain in this post that is hastily being written on a BlackBerry. But now I think you've gone too far here.
Today is Wednesday. Wednesdays, to me, are held very sacred being as they are traditionally "Family Dinner" nights. Tonight, however, I didn't feel a very, erm, "familiar" bond from you. You decided that instead of waiting for me to get out of rehearsal, you went to dinner earlier and left very soon after I had gotten there. Not because you had a meeting, not because you had homework (reasons that I understand completely). No. You left so you could watch High School Musical. Fucking. High. School. Musical. You value a fucking Disney movie more than having dinner with me?
Not two hours before you commented that you "loved me and I make you laugh." I wish you showed that you loved me just a little more often.
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