Thursday, September 16, 2004

Ouch, Ouch, What the Fuck Ever.

BLEAH. Martine doesn’t want to see me ever again. Well, no, but we’re just to stay friends, that it, period, nothing I can do about it. Fine. I understand, I really do. And unlike most girls, when I say that, I really mean it.

We had a rather odd, rather long conversation that had me laughing, crying, feeling denial, followed by apathy then a I can’t care less attitude.

‘Was it difficult for you to say all that to me.’

‘Yeah it was. It wasn’t easy. But it had to be done. I was wondering how to break it to you. Texting just seemed like a good idea because I wouldn’t feel inhibited, and would get it done, but…’

‘Oh god. That would have been such an absolutely mean thing to do. And telling it to me in person would just be a bad idea. I’d cry and laugh and behave like a total psychopath. You would probably be freaked out, and I would be freaked out. No, It’s good that you called.’

That was the SHORTEST relationship, and yet so amazingly powerful. Talk about a drive in romance. Do you want a lover with that Long Black?

There’s nothing I can do about it, so I fucking won’t. I’m upset, of course I am, but I’ll get over it. Give me a few hours.

I’m over men, they can’t do anything to me, the bastards.

Ha-ha, but God I love them. I love the dating, the sex, the intimacy, the worship.

I’m COMPLETELY nuts now. I don’t know what to think. I’m on PMS, I’m drunk, and I’m DEFINITELY upset.

Oh right. Mr. Big. He might read this, I have absolutely no idea how often he reads my junk (yes, I’m feeding the lot of you terribly bad, trashy literature in the likes of silliness like ‘Babe in Toyland’, and ‘Shopaholic dies of an overdose’ Who writes that crap anyway.) And I’m thinking, this IS fucking weird. So he knew I liked someone for a couple of days, and now I’m rejected, so what now? Nonono, I won’t ever use anyone as a rebound, or a second play or any bull-shit like that.

I’m really just Only saying that.

I try not to, but I do, oh I know I do. But it’s not like I can help it. Can I just hide all my inherent scheming under a veneer of biological imbalances?

I don’t give a fucking rats ass shit about any fucking dick. If anyone wants me, I’ll be asleep.

Whee!!!

Don’t feel sorry for me, don’t say I told you so. We really had something going on, but it was simply pointless to try to have made anything work. Not that I really believe in making things work, because I don’t.

But you can still send me sympathetic email.

xoxox

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