i get it

yo, i get it.
damnit.
i get that you buy a fucking xmas tree. your first xmas tree. together, i take.
i get that you cooked thanksgivingdinner for everybody.
i get that you are fucking loved and happy.
you must be. it must be going very, very well.
maybe it just takes the right woman to make a man. or the right mother. uhh, well.
i also get that you are really trying to rub it in my face. . maybe, you don't.
maybe it's me headbutting that ginormous piece of shit you piled on.
voluntarily.


you know. when i'm thinking about it properly. I get that: I haven`t really given myself enough space to complain. i need to go in a park and just complain for a couple of hours. i mean, no, days. complain. say it how it is. just cut through the whole 'understandin' part of it. just...eff that shit. you know? complain about assholes. specific ones, general ones. about getting f§$%ed in the ass. all that. and then, you know, just breathe in, breathe out,
and go home.

i think i get THAT, too.