He said he loved me.
Was this during sex? Because chicks yell out “OH GOD” and “OH DADDY” while I’m fuckin’ ’em and I really doubt they think I’m either of those things. If so… well, we have bigger problems than America’s education system.
I wanna go somewhere… Take a vacation from the bullshit.
I like going on vacation with girls that don’t get tan lines… If you know what I mean.
I think I have cancer.
Shit, seriously? Eh, just think of it like I do STDs. If I have the clap and I don’t know about it, it’s the same as not having it.
PSA: If you see a 6’1″ blonde dude who drinks too much and always wears muscle tees and tank tops, don’t have sex with him.
And I miraculously make it out alive, I don’t attribute my good fortune to god intervening on my behalf to save my sorry ass.
It just means I caught the devil off guard.
As the title states, I fucked up.
I’ve been cut off by my family and I’m wondering if I should fight the good fight or fucking welcome the nuclear blast with open arms. I’ll get a fabulous tan before I’m incinerated, my shadow imprinted into the side of a building.
I’ve been uninvited to Christmas with my family, so I imagine I’ll spend Christmas Eve on top of the water tower by myself. Contemplate how badly it’ll hurt to fall from a height of 150 ft. Maybe I’ll bring up a Sharpie to figure out how fast and how quickly I’ll hit the pavement below with the frivolous lessons I learned in physics. A closed casket funeral a few days later. Shovel up my goop into a pine box, throw it into a hole with nothing but the gravedigger and parson as witnesses. The man of God might say some empty words about how no one should grieve for me for God cares. What a load of cock and bull. Maybe no one will go to work or school so my body will rot for a few days. Food for the ravens. Funny. I used to feed them sandwich meat on the weekends. Now I’ll be feeding them my entrails. Consider it my final gift and meal, my nightmares with wings.
All this shit has made me realize that I’m a hopeful person. Maybe things aren’t so bad. Perhaps this is the test, the crucible that’ll mould me into a better person.
That’s wishful thinking. I’m just a coward of what is to come and I can’t move forward until something gives me a swift kick in the ass.
I took Abe and Alex out for a drive. We didn’t have a destination in mind so I just followed roads at random. I should’ve gone downtown or something because we ended up in the ghetto.
We knew we were in the wrong part of town when a guy threw up a Crip hand sign so he could pass by a group of dudes sitting on the stairs to a rundown row home. Just our fucking luck…the light was red.
I should’ve taken that as a sign to turn around and head back to campus, but I just kept driving, going farther into the nasty parts of Baltimore everyone hears about but hardly ever sees.
Liquor stores were on every other corner. The windows to homes were boarded up; many looked vacant. No street lights. And the people… They huddled in groups and stared at us as we drove by. They walked with hunched shoulders and short, fast steps. And their faces… They either looked tired and soulless or angry. If I had to choose between the two, I’m not sure which one I’d pick. I’d rather suck start a shotgun.
I told the brothers that I didn’t know where we were, but that was only half true. In a past life, I used to ride in the backseat of an SUV with some bad people packin’ heat. I never spoke to the Cholo or Vietnamese man, so I had plenty of time to look out the window.
I knew we were in the clear when we reached the all boys’ Catholic school, Mount Saint Joseph. It was still on a street I wouldn’t want to walk alone at night, but it was significantly safer.
Perhaps God really does reside there.
But Satan runs the rest of that town.
I once met a man who was quite the player. We were in a similar line of work that required a measure of aloofness. No attachments, only cold calculations so our clients could succeed in the dating arena.
He was a far better coach than me; I think it had to do with the fact he had refined his techniques by his own hand. He was a cold son of a bitch.
He had his heart broken. It was a very harsh trauma. I think that was the fiery crucible that changed him.
I suppose you’ve never been in love then?
No, Jess. I have. And it was…shattering. I once lost a girl I loved. That pain… I wrecked my car, tore up my possessions, the ass whooping of my life couldn’t have driven that feeling from my gut. These guys, they want to get laid, and that’s good and well, but I doubt they’ll do what I did after I lost her. If they’re not smashing shit after losing a woman, they don’t know the bliss and agony of giving up everything for love.
…you still miss her?
Every damned day, Jess.
I think about that conversation a lot.
Please God, don’t let that be me.
I hate getting phone calls from odd country codes. It’s always bad news from a far away place.
Lassie Lynn, do you love me?
This a trick question?
I mean… I gueeeess~ Hahaha!
Do you love me enough to let me go?
Is everything all right?
I think I’m getting married.
Oh, wow… That’s great. Congratulations.
…So you’re okay with that?
…Sounds like you’re asking for my permission.
He told me his girlfriend of a year and a half was pressuring him for marriage. She said it wasn’t right for him to “play with her” if he had no intention of wifeing her. Seamus is about as steadfast and assertive as they come; they don’t make ’em like that anymore. I blame the feminazis for squashing the male-dominance gene out of our progeny; fortunately they haven’t gotten to everyone… But if there was a topic to crush Seamus into submission, it would probably be marriage. Something about sacraments, vows of unending love, honesty before God and your soul mate. Dude gets intense when he talks about spending the rest of his life with someone. I guess the Catholics do a few things right.
I feel he wanted me to say I didn’t want him to marry. I think he wanted me to tell him that I’d die without him; that he belonged to me and I to him. I mean, if we’re going by time as the gold standard, six years – even if it was on and off – is certainly a longer time to be with someone than a year and some change.
But I think we both know that boat sailed off towards the horizon a long time ago.
You have to do what’s right by you, Seamus O’Hare; no one else will do it.
You always did.
What the fuck. Stop.
I have to go to class now. Congratulations again. Send me an invitation. It’ll be the first wedding I attend.
You know, I love you. I’ll still love you even after… all of this happens.
What if I get a bowl cut?
I hung up. I didn’t need to hear his answer. I knew what it would be. I’m pretty much Han Solo.
I wanted to write something so I could feel bad, but god has left my consciousness and I feel nothing. I thought a drink would bring the feelings back. Too many calories. I’d be disappointed with myself. Time to fire up Tinder.
He wanted a purebred, and I’m just a shelter animal. They’re roses and I’m just a dandelion.
Maybe he’s fallen in love… Best leave him to his happiness. This sucks, man. This sucks worse than a nun trying to give a blowjob.
Shit, I’m worried I’ve gone too far. This is the last thing I wanted. But I can’t stop. I’m power tripping.
This fucker wants a pound of flesh.
Everything will be okay. If it’s not okay, it’s not over.
What lies you tell. I’d rather be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie. Fucking mind games. Why can’t you just beat me like a normal person?
I’m losing it.
Jess. Jess, Jess, Jess… You have yourself and that is enough. You come from a time when ships were made of wood and men were made of steel. You’re some fantastic shit, and I wouldn’t fuck with you unless if I had a strong belief in reincarnation. And if there is such a thing as reincarnation, I’m jealous that other people get to have you in their lives and I don’t.