But you want to go out and have drinks with your friends. So you pretend that you're good. Great, actually. And smile. And hope that nobody sees through the masquerade. Or that they don't care enough to call you on your shit. Because if they did, you'd probably cry. And you don't cry. You just don't.
So I'm going to smile and drink and get it over with. Hopefully without tears.
Update: Just came back, without having shedded any tears. We didn't talk about the one topic that would have brought tears and skirted along the second. I'm better now.