Maybe there is such a thing as an inner voice. Something you have less control over, which really you have full control over. Last week my inner voice was all I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. This weekend it feel silent until one moment when it sassed at me from the middle of the encroaching sadness, You got this! Don't worry your single sexy self! And I was like woahhh where did that come from? Single sexy self? I don't think I've ever viewed myself as both at once. This afternoon this inner voice is full of confusion, going back on it's word. Heartbroken. Heartbroken. Heartbroken. No I'm not. I don't need to be told, by myself, that I'm heartbroken. That's not helpful. I'm trying to fix myself, thank you. Heartbroken. Heartbreaking. I wish my inner voice would shut the fuck up.