You don't hate New Jersey. You just hate that you can't quit it. Big difference. This is for the person who spent 45 minutes in traffic to go four miles, paid three tolls to leave, paid two more to come back, and still defends the place to anyone from out of state. That's not hate, that's a situationship.
The broken heart says it all: the smell on certain stretches of highway, the guy who will fight you over whether it's pork roll or the other thing, the diner at 2am that cured you and ruined you in the same booth, beach badges, and somebody yelling at you for touching the gas pump. You love it. It just keeps hurting you. Wear the feelings.
Soft, substantial fabric that holds its shape through laundry day and bad decisions alike, with a print that stays sharp instead of cracking into confetti. Comfortable enough for the couch, durable enough for the parkway rest stop at midnight.
