A week ago, breaking up with my high school boyfriend was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Especially since he’d pressured me for sex and I kind of gave in a couple times and then got pregnant and had to have a secret abortion which he paid for with his summer job savings.
As of today, though, I’ve shot eight zombies in the head, burned about a dozen, smashed three storefronts to loot supplies, stolen a van, and left my ex behind because I knew he’d been bitten and was lying about it. So what I’m saying is, everything’s relative.
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