July 27, 2009 -- 10:27 p.m.
My ex heard I was sick and brought me flowers.
There was also a note. I haven't read it. I suppose I should burn it for the sake of drama, but I won't.
He's so repentant. I love him. I hate him. I hate myself for loving him still.
Ironically, there's a guy named Freddy in my ward. I'm not his type, I think.
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I'm sorry you're sick, and heartsick.
Nothing pretty is blooming right now, but here's a virtual cucumber from my garden to cheer you up:
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