24 February, 2009
Oh, disaster, my Friends. So much for following through with all that drunken clarity I was having….
Surely nothing can be worse that getting your heart slapped around. How can so much possibly change in 1 week, 24 hours, or in one fucking moment? Was I crazy in love, or just fucking crazy….? Je-sus. It’s just not fair. When your heart breaks, you can’t get a cast put on. It really fucking sucks when maybes officially turn into non-maybes, and you have to go right back to stupid square one all over again. BLAH. I am so sick of square one I could vomit all over it (and if I didn’t spend every last cent to my name this weekend trying to do just that, I would probably give it another run today).
I feel blindsided, but I really shouldn’t. Did I see this coming? Indeed, roughly a mile away. Did I do it anyway? Ohhh, you bet your sweet ass I did. As we all know by now, Love is a blind little bitch, and that is true in every language. *sigh* Self destruction has just been so easy for me these days. It’s disgusting. I disgust myself.
More importantly, how could I possibly not have enough respect for myself to even get involved in being “the other” woman? Or to even proceed with a pseudo relationship where the most satisfaction I can get is to pretend to be a girlfriend? Um, red fucking light, anyone? Cuckoo, cuckoo....*I am shaking my own head at myself....feel free to do the same*
ARghhhh….That is actually I think the thing that disappoints me the most…that I am such a friggin’ moron I actually accepted the position of 2nd best when no one with an OUNCE of respect for themselves would do something so foolish and pathetic. But I do respect myself…it’s all just so depressing and confusing. I’ll just settle on the conclusion that I’m a goddamn idiot and call it a day.
I feel like love’s uneven remainder, destined to be carried over for eternity while all the other numbers keep getting added together to equal a whole.
The longest relationship I’ve had in 3 years has been with a bottle of wine, and that’s a fact.
UPDATE: 2:12 AM
So, I took a Medalla break at about 10PM and met my wingman Gerardo on La Calle. How many times in my life will I be able to take a break from writing a paper to go have several $1 beers under the stars with a balmy breeze blowing on my face? Like NEVER. He also showed me a bar that now sells I.P.A. and PILSNER. ON TAP. Dude, seriously. Thank f’ing God for friends, is all I have to say right now. Even when you go through the day absoutely convinced your heart will cease to beat at any moment, a cold beer and a nice friend is enough to set you right again. At least for the night.
I still have to finish my paper, btw….not going to happen tonight. Do you know how hard it is to write a paper on Ovid’s Heroides right now, which is basically a bunch of desperate love letters these chicks wrote to their men whom they didn’t completely trust? You have to admire them for their willingness to be vulnerable, though, in the midst of their distress. I would call it pathetic if I didn’t envy it so much.
Can you remember how much it sucks to get goodnight messages from someone every night, and then suddenly the night comes that you don’t get them anymore? It’s roughly the most painful feeling ever. I even remember my first boyfriend would always call me at 8pm, and for the longest time after we broke up, I would still pay attention to the clock at 8pm. That is totally pathetic, but I was 14, so it’s forgivable. Now I’m 26 and it’s significantly less forgivable.