Her heart had been so badly broken, that her spirit was shattered. Her self-worth was in the toilet… a filthy, virulent, gas station toilet. It was bad. Really, really bad. After he (who shall remain nameless) left her for her best friend (former best friend- that bitch doesn't get named either) she really had lost all hope of love, of romance and of the belief that she would ever love again- or worse, that anyone would ever love her. She felt doomed. There wasn't enough chocolate, weed, or wine in the world to help her get through this Valentine’s Day. She just couldn't deal with life. She decided that she wouldn't leave home. She would stay indoors and hide- like a secret abortion of love- hide from the world in her two bedroom (both empty) apartment in West Hollywood. Why would she leave? Why should she? She lived in the gayest, most homo neighborhood in the country anyway. It was all so useless.
At least she had her cat- Timmy, he