I am fucking OLD, guys.
Well, granted, I did wake up at eight in the morning after going to bed at four in the morning... and I was out of my house since 11 in the morning.
When I don't have decent "chill" time, I tend to grow tired and grumpy.
AND I only had a ("lunch sized") grilled chicken salad in my tummy the entire day... so... I guess I can consider myself lucky for not being in prison after ripping someone's head off or something similarly violent.
Right. Like I'd be able to do that, being so feeble and confused.
All I could really think all day was:
Bro... two years ago, I would have killed to spend this much quality time with you...
I guess I should say I spent the entire day with MGH-- a drunk MGH, mind you, and we all know how much I fucking love dealing with intoxicated men.
I'd find myself admiring MGH... well, more like, looking at him and contemplating.
This time he wasn't being emotional... but he was trying his hardest to be with me at all times.
He'd bump his hand into mine while we walked, he'd be shotgun every single time I drove (back in the day, he'd usually fight not to be next to me), actually, he'd sit next to me anytime I decided to take a seat anywhere.
He also hugged me a lot.
Naturally, I'd quietly sit there and watch him... and think.
It drives me crazy how it took him SO DAMN LONG to realize that MAYBE I was a good choice.
Now that I remember, these last two times he has visited me, he has gone ahead and told his friends, verbatim, "AnoMALIE's an awesome girl..." No sarcasm, no nothing... just... sincere, random shit (though a couple of times he'd kill it by finishing it off with "it's like... she's not even a girl, since girls are so difficult. She's like... a dude." Thanks?).
What makes me most sad, is when I realize--after asking myself repeatedly-- that no matter how sweet he is being to me, or how clingy, or close, or whatever... I feel nothing. Nothing.
No desire to return the touch, no butterflies, no excitement, no electricity, no disgust, no irritation... just... nothing. Well, it's more like... what I feel when my bro bumps into me. Apathy.
Goodness, these fucking shoes are way too big on me, flipping everywhere... need more room, MGH? Here buddy ...How could anyone wear that fucking hat? Tourists.
And when I'd look at him, whether it was as we sat at the sports bar or as we waited in line at the store, all I could do was contemplate how much I enjoyed this activity not so long ago. Anything involving him would get my heart skipping a beat. And now, I just... couldn't feel anything other than tired and sleepy.
And I still feel tired and sleepy.
Enough contemplating.
Well, granted, I did wake up at eight in the morning after going to bed at four in the morning... and I was out of my house since 11 in the morning.
When I don't have decent "chill" time, I tend to grow tired and grumpy.
AND I only had a ("lunch sized") grilled chicken salad in my tummy the entire day... so... I guess I can consider myself lucky for not being in prison after ripping someone's head off or something similarly violent.
Right. Like I'd be able to do that, being so feeble and confused.
All I could really think all day was:
Bro... two years ago, I would have killed to spend this much quality time with you...
I guess I should say I spent the entire day with MGH-- a drunk MGH, mind you, and we all know how much I fucking love dealing with intoxicated men.
I'd find myself admiring MGH... well, more like, looking at him and contemplating.
This time he wasn't being emotional... but he was trying his hardest to be with me at all times.
He'd bump his hand into mine while we walked, he'd be shotgun every single time I drove (back in the day, he'd usually fight not to be next to me), actually, he'd sit next to me anytime I decided to take a seat anywhere.
He also hugged me a lot.
Naturally, I'd quietly sit there and watch him... and think.
It drives me crazy how it took him SO DAMN LONG to realize that MAYBE I was a good choice.
Now that I remember, these last two times he has visited me, he has gone ahead and told his friends, verbatim, "AnoMALIE's an awesome girl..." No sarcasm, no nothing... just... sincere, random shit (though a couple of times he'd kill it by finishing it off with "it's like... she's not even a girl, since girls are so difficult. She's like... a dude." Thanks?).
What makes me most sad, is when I realize--after asking myself repeatedly-- that no matter how sweet he is being to me, or how clingy, or close, or whatever... I feel nothing. Nothing.
No desire to return the touch, no butterflies, no excitement, no electricity, no disgust, no irritation... just... nothing. Well, it's more like... what I feel when my bro bumps into me. Apathy.
Goodness, these fucking shoes are way too big on me, flipping everywhere... need more room, MGH? Here buddy ...How could anyone wear that fucking hat? Tourists.
And when I'd look at him, whether it was as we sat at the sports bar or as we waited in line at the store, all I could do was contemplate how much I enjoyed this activity not so long ago. Anything involving him would get my heart skipping a beat. And now, I just... couldn't feel anything other than tired and sleepy.
And I still feel tired and sleepy.
Enough contemplating.
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