Well Fuck Me
I shouldn't have gone. I knew I shouldn't have. Rebecca is getting married. Married? Married. Yeah, that's about my luck. Jesus.
Anyhow, a certain Mouse seems to want to clarify that she made some kind of error or something. Listen, I've been thinking about what happened, and this is what I came up with. We went out for all of three days; I've decided to interpret that silence and nothingness as being held at arm's length. Then, I wrote something on this site, proclaiming my frustration in a rather unique and pretty foolish way (I understand that it was open to misinterpretation). But then you said that you understood what I meant and you weren't really taking the relationship seriously/ you didn't actually want to go out with me. Please understand that going out with you was my way of proving that I could just let Rebecca go, and that ended up getting run into the ground. Cancel that, it was never off the ground. Why? Why did you bother? Was it pity? I hate pity. Was it something else? If so, what? And why do you feel bad about not having any feelings for me? That's not really in your hands, is it?
So please, just stop apologizing or whatever and let it go. I've forgiven you, you've forgiven me, no more. I just don't want to think about it anymore, okay? I'm already feeling unloved, so why remind me that I can't hold someone's interest?
On a lighter note, I got Travis' b-day present. Are you even having one? I don't remember when yours is. Regardless, it's the best gift ever. You'll see.
So anyway, I suppose you'll be wanting the full report from my dad's. Eh, probably not, but I'm gonna tell you anyway, damnit! So yeah, I went there, obviously. No one was home when I got in. My little brother came shortly after, we BS'd, played games, it was cool. I was preparing myself, but you probably could have figured that one out on your own. Then my other bro comes home, crashes on the bed, nothing special. Finally, she comes home. With her....husband. HUSBAND?! That's what shot into my mind. The very first thing she did was flash her stupid ring in my face. For those who don't read the site, it's basically the equivalent to having the other team score a touchdown, then jam the football up your ass for good measure. I gave her the icebeam (Whoopdee fucking doo, I don't care. ICEBEAM!), if you know what I mean. The guy she's engaged to is actually pretty cool, but he's not the one I'm angry at. Really, I'm only angry at myself. I should be smarter than to hitch my emotions onto someone so unstable as Rebecca.
So anyhow, I spent pretty much the entire day in a room away from her. Seeing her was enough to...well, I don't think I need to explain at this point. I walked 6 blocks to Raley's (the bumfuck Egypt equivalent to Safeway) alone. Her and her...husband....wanted to give me a ride there, but I would be damned if I went for that. So I walked. They were just leaving as I was coming in. She really didn't understand why I was mad, or even that I was mad, because she tried to talk to me in the doorway. But I wouldn't play that game. I gave her another ICEBEAM! and went right on by. I got home, and they were gone (or maybe in the next room, I dunno). I played Need For Speed for a few hours. Then I kicked Travis' ass at DDR (but who really won?) and he called HIS girlfriend. He hit on her on the phone for about an hour. I just fucked around with her because I didn't care (I was telling her Travis used to be a pedophile and shit like that [she actually believed me]). Then, we went...fucking nowhere because my dad is an asshole. I guess we (my younger bro and I; Roman was out getting drunk or something) ended up going to BFE Safeway again around 7 PM. On the way back, Travis wanted to stop by......the husband's house...... to pick up a few games. I reluctantly agreed. We picked up Contra and another game (didn't really matter because when we got home the PS2 was broken) and left. We were invited to go bowling between 12 and 2. We were under the impression that they were paying (since that's what they said). We were wrong. I had money for myself, but not for Travis. He LOVES bowling more than life. He asked everyone for ten bucks to go bowling, but no one, not even the neighbors, had it. He was frantic. Then, they came home. You know who. At this point I decided to take the "if my bro can't go, then I won't, and you shouldn't have got his hopes up you fucking succubi" stance. Then I caved and said I'd pay for him. Yeah, fuck you. Well we went. The....husband...isn't a bad guy. Just foolish. When they said bowling, what they really meant was "we're gonna suck face for two hours while you guys try to at least maintain an air of competition". Of course, I saw this coming, as you probably did too. So, I countered it with cunning wit and skill. I let Travis in on what was going on, and we busted out our A game. Strike. Strike. Strike. Stop making out, it's your turn, I just got a strike. FOR TWO HOURS. If there's anything I can't stand, it's shit getting rubbed in my face. At around 1:30 the group next to us split and let us have their lane. So me and Travis, now with monumentally sore fingers, decided to just fuck around. What followed defies the laws of reason. I threw one bowling ball over T's head. Strike. Travis pulled a "Tuen" (his friend who is a little limp-wristed) by running up and just dropping the ball while moving. Strike. I spun around as fast as I could in circles, And just let go of the ball. Strike. Travis double-fisted and managed to somehow pop the ball out of the gutter into the neighboring lane for a...wait for it...strike. It was hard to believe just watching it. I put the ball flat on the foul line and walked away. Then I ran back up and slid-kicked it for....a fucking strike. Then we rode home. I threw a chewed piece of gum out of the window at a passing car. It slammed on the brakes, so we rode faster. Travis egged a house. We almost ditched him. The....husband...had to go home, so it was just us three after. She tried to make me feel better.
She failed.
Anyhow, a certain Mouse seems to want to clarify that she made some kind of error or something. Listen, I've been thinking about what happened, and this is what I came up with. We went out for all of three days; I've decided to interpret that silence and nothingness as being held at arm's length. Then, I wrote something on this site, proclaiming my frustration in a rather unique and pretty foolish way (I understand that it was open to misinterpretation). But then you said that you understood what I meant and you weren't really taking the relationship seriously/ you didn't actually want to go out with me. Please understand that going out with you was my way of proving that I could just let Rebecca go, and that ended up getting run into the ground. Cancel that, it was never off the ground. Why? Why did you bother? Was it pity? I hate pity. Was it something else? If so, what? And why do you feel bad about not having any feelings for me? That's not really in your hands, is it?
So please, just stop apologizing or whatever and let it go. I've forgiven you, you've forgiven me, no more. I just don't want to think about it anymore, okay? I'm already feeling unloved, so why remind me that I can't hold someone's interest?
On a lighter note, I got Travis' b-day present. Are you even having one? I don't remember when yours is. Regardless, it's the best gift ever. You'll see.
So anyway, I suppose you'll be wanting the full report from my dad's. Eh, probably not, but I'm gonna tell you anyway, damnit! So yeah, I went there, obviously. No one was home when I got in. My little brother came shortly after, we BS'd, played games, it was cool. I was preparing myself, but you probably could have figured that one out on your own. Then my other bro comes home, crashes on the bed, nothing special. Finally, she comes home. With her....husband. HUSBAND?! That's what shot into my mind. The very first thing she did was flash her stupid ring in my face. For those who don't read the site, it's basically the equivalent to having the other team score a touchdown, then jam the football up your ass for good measure. I gave her the icebeam (Whoopdee fucking doo, I don't care. ICEBEAM!), if you know what I mean. The guy she's engaged to is actually pretty cool, but he's not the one I'm angry at. Really, I'm only angry at myself. I should be smarter than to hitch my emotions onto someone so unstable as Rebecca.
So anyhow, I spent pretty much the entire day in a room away from her. Seeing her was enough to...well, I don't think I need to explain at this point. I walked 6 blocks to Raley's (the bumfuck Egypt equivalent to Safeway) alone. Her and her...husband....wanted to give me a ride there, but I would be damned if I went for that. So I walked. They were just leaving as I was coming in. She really didn't understand why I was mad, or even that I was mad, because she tried to talk to me in the doorway. But I wouldn't play that game. I gave her another ICEBEAM! and went right on by. I got home, and they were gone (or maybe in the next room, I dunno). I played Need For Speed for a few hours. Then I kicked Travis' ass at DDR (but who really won?) and he called HIS girlfriend. He hit on her on the phone for about an hour. I just fucked around with her because I didn't care (I was telling her Travis used to be a pedophile and shit like that [she actually believed me]). Then, we went...fucking nowhere because my dad is an asshole. I guess we (my younger bro and I; Roman was out getting drunk or something) ended up going to BFE Safeway again around 7 PM. On the way back, Travis wanted to stop by......the husband's house...... to pick up a few games. I reluctantly agreed. We picked up Contra and another game (didn't really matter because when we got home the PS2 was broken) and left. We were invited to go bowling between 12 and 2. We were under the impression that they were paying (since that's what they said). We were wrong. I had money for myself, but not for Travis. He LOVES bowling more than life. He asked everyone for ten bucks to go bowling, but no one, not even the neighbors, had it. He was frantic. Then, they came home. You know who. At this point I decided to take the "if my bro can't go, then I won't, and you shouldn't have got his hopes up you fucking succubi" stance. Then I caved and said I'd pay for him. Yeah, fuck you. Well we went. The....husband...isn't a bad guy. Just foolish. When they said bowling, what they really meant was "we're gonna suck face for two hours while you guys try to at least maintain an air of competition". Of course, I saw this coming, as you probably did too. So, I countered it with cunning wit and skill. I let Travis in on what was going on, and we busted out our A game. Strike. Strike. Strike. Stop making out, it's your turn, I just got a strike. FOR TWO HOURS. If there's anything I can't stand, it's shit getting rubbed in my face. At around 1:30 the group next to us split and let us have their lane. So me and Travis, now with monumentally sore fingers, decided to just fuck around. What followed defies the laws of reason. I threw one bowling ball over T's head. Strike. Travis pulled a "Tuen" (his friend who is a little limp-wristed) by running up and just dropping the ball while moving. Strike. I spun around as fast as I could in circles, And just let go of the ball. Strike. Travis double-fisted and managed to somehow pop the ball out of the gutter into the neighboring lane for a...wait for it...strike. It was hard to believe just watching it. I put the ball flat on the foul line and walked away. Then I ran back up and slid-kicked it for....a fucking strike. Then we rode home. I threw a chewed piece of gum out of the window at a passing car. It slammed on the brakes, so we rode faster. Travis egged a house. We almost ditched him. The....husband...had to go home, so it was just us three after. She tried to make me feel better.
She failed.
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