I sent out an SOS and everybody came out in full force. Text messages, SnapChats, people visiting with cakes, and hugs…more hugs and cuddles than I thought a girl could ever have.
I talked to my father as well. He said Michael was wise for recognizing that he isn’t ready for a relationship. “Sweetheart, if you’ve had a boyfriend before, there’s a line of a million guys waiting to make you happy. You’d have 10 million if you were back down to your fighting weight of 140 pounds though. Just remember that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach so learn how to cook, and make up doesn’t hurt.”
Ian offered to have his fingernails removed (he used to be a dealer and “knows some people”) and Jay said he could run Michael’s car through a chop shop down in Silver Spring. “At the very least I can pop three tires. Insurance don’t cover that shit if it’s only three.”
I mentioned it to my brother in passing. He gave me a lot of shit for crying…and then I saw this on his Facebook.
Some other messages:
I feel very loved. And as much as I find all of these “Let’s beat the shit outta Michael” messages amusing, I really don’t want anything bad to happen to him at all. I guess that means this was a good thing.
I just feel…empty.
About a week before I decided I was going to be a dumbass and ask Michael what he wanted of me (I still don’t fucking know the answer to that question), I wrote a script of sorts. Stupid paper. Stupid Jessica for writing it.
Me: Why do I look at this piece of paper like it’s a death waiver?
Matt: Because he’s like a weird investment in your life and you don’t want to run the risk.
I may have a gambling problem.