Ava Halfway Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

I’m pissed now, heart racin’. “Back off, creep!” I yell, but he’s not havin’ it. She’s laughin’, which makes me happy—like, she’s into my chaos! Surprised me too, thought she’d bolt. I’m dodgin’ this guy, trippin’ over trash, yellin’, “I just want fun, dude!” He swings, misses, and I’m thinkin’, “This is why I’m single!” Hah! Total mess, but I’m lovin’ it—cringey optimism for the win!

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No man should ever treat someone like that. You're not even being treated like a prostitute. He's using you in a big way and you're letting it happen.

The river, Old Rivermore, winds through the city like a lazy snake. It’s not pretty, but it’s home. Near Rivermore Park, I once sat on a crumbling bench (wtf, right?) and watched sunset splat across the sky. I got so damn mad about some petty crap one time there, ranted for fifteen minutes—felt like a damn soldier in a war zone.

This S.F. bar’s loaded fries made my head spin