I've said before that I feel lost, and list-making has not helped. I feel like "unrequited" is my middle name, I don't understand (or really care to understand) my peers, and I'm stuck in a rut of terrible reading. Today, I blame Jane Eyre.
Reasons I Blame Jane Eyre
1. Out of all the classics I ever read, I loved Jane Eyre the most because it had an epilogue. Spoiler: the epilogue meant a happy ending, and I decided then and there that I loved happy endings.
A. So now, I read books with happy endings for therapy, but they tend to be badly written.
B. I get depressed when I read well written books without epilogues.
2. Jane changes her dude, and made me believe that true love can exist.
A. I don't see life in the same carefree manner as my peers (and most of the world), so I don't relate and others have a hard time relating to me.
For more self-pitying, pathetic posts, come back next week. If this pissed you off, please comment a happily ever after that was well written, and I'll love you forever.
Laters.
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