Wednesday, September 2, 2009

My So Called...Fucked Up...Life

Where to begin…where to begin.

I’m sitting at the hospital at the moment. My sources were apparently incorrect. I thought my sister came here this morning to be induced, its seems she’s been here since 6 last night. In that case…this baby is being a little asshole. Which means I may like him already. She's getting a C Section as I post this.

I hate hospitals. After my dad’s quadruple bypass heart surgery (which involved me taking him to all follow up doctors visits as well), my mom breaking her neck in the car wreck (which involved me taking her to all follow up doctors visits as well) and then my mom’s eye surgeries (again, doctor visits), I think I’m fucking done with hospitals. No, not think, I am done with fucking hospitals. Hopefully for a while anyway. That was all in a like six month span by the way.

So last night it seems I tried to burn the apartment down. Now, I know I hate my life but I don’t think I would want to kill my roomie in the process. It appears, after coming home from the bar, that I wanted to eat some mac&cheese. I say appears because I don’t remember. So, I got it going, got the noodles in there, then passed out. I was woken up by said roomie bitching at me holding a blackened pot in front of me. With the obligatory, “You could have caught the fucking apartment on fire.” I got up off the couch I had passed out on, walked into my room, and passed out again. I looked at the time though, if I was to guess the mac&cheese had been cooking for 4 hours. That’s some well done food huh? The whole apartment smells like burnt popcorn. I’ve had a scented candle going since I came home from work.

Two things to go along with that though.
One: I don’t know how many times I’ve come home from the bar to find the roomie passed out with the stove or oven on. Do I wake him up to tell him? Or do I turn it off and go to bed. I’ll let you guess the answer to that one.
Two: Instead of putting the burnt pot in the sink…to subside the smell a little bit, he just left it sitting on the stove. Thanks for that too.

His fucking double standards are driving me nuts. Like when he picked up the apt and put my hoodie that was sitting on the table in my bedroom for the cats to lay on. Yet left his clean clothes that had been on the couch for around two weeks. Thanks dick!

On to the other topic on my mind. So Monday night I go out with my friends, as usual, to Sidelines. One of the girls there, A, has a crush on me but I’ve told her before that I wasn’t interested in her. She’s simply not my type. She is a taller/bigger girl and while she is very attractive, I like em tiny. I explained this to her. Well, she has been having a rough spell and she makes the passing comment that she wishes she could just cuddle with someone as she slept. It’s a known fact that I’ve been lonely…so I volunteered. I wouldn’t have minded a good night sleep cuddling with someone. As we were going to sleep I started rubbing her back and her hair. I was doing this because I thought I would be nice…swear to god…I thought it would help her go to sleep. I was trying to comfort her. She, it seems, took it another way and started messing around with me. Most uncomfortable moment of my life. I didn’t want to…alright that’s a lie, when it started I found it interesting but after about 5 minutes I didn’t even respond to her. If, you’re a guy, you would understand if you managed to not get an erection to a girl that was naked on top of you. So, I just got her off as quick as I could…she offered sex…I turned her down. After that all I wanted to do was run away, get the fuck outta the building but again…I’m nice…and I didn’t want her to feel bad. Fuck…fuck…shit fuck cockcrowing butt fucking piece of ass crap. That was terrible. Terrible. Even worse, she left marks!

I guess the reason why I feel so bad is that even though I have no chance with a girl (she has flat out pretty much told me that), I’ve, in a way, given her my heart. I haven’t been flirting with other girls. I haven’t even really been looking at anybody else. So in a way, in some goddamn stupid fucking retarded way, I feel like I cheated on her. What the fuck is wrong with my goddamn head? I hate having a heart. Really, I do. I wish I was like “Dexter” ya know…cut off from emotions. You would think I would have learned my lesson after all the x’s that have fucked me over and just shut down. Actually, I guess just being fucked up is what is wrong with me. I’ve never even met the girl who is taking my heart. Hahaha. I have however talked to her online twice for over 7 hour sessions. That’s not even counting little chit chats. She doesn’t even live in the same state. I am fucked up huh?

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