Thoughts from an insomniac

In many ways he was like poetry.
He was full of contradictions,
Beauty and shallowness
Elegance and crass indifference
Something else too...
His depth was unmeasurable
It depended almost entirely upon the mood he was in

And yet there was something fundamentally false about him.

It isn't that he lied to me...
I rather expect that from the men I love.
I feel like he lies to many women,
He tells them that he loves them completely
And wants to be with them forever,
All the while waiting for something more spectacular than what's before him

And even though there is still some basic part of me that craves him
I'd rather be alone than lied to.
I don't particularly feel like someone who is pining away
Weeping over something lost and best forgotten
But I don't feel overly "over it" either.
Maybe that's what happens when the person for whom you would have moved the stars
Throws you away like so much trash.

I don't want to be with him.
Not now, after so much time passed in silence
Not after seeing how easy it was for him replace me
But sometimes I think about him with a certain tenderness
The reasons for which I can't completely name.

It isn't that I want him back
It's that I want to know that somewhere,
In the furthest recesses of his inconstant heart
That my presence in his life
And my absence now
Has affected him.

I need a freaking road map

So "John" liked "Brandy" who likes both "Darrel" and "Phil" but Phil decided to ask Brandy out. Except Phil is John's BFF 4EVAR, and now apparently Phil is dead to John for ever asking Brandy out in the first place, and Brandy is -- apparently -- a HORRIBLE TERRIBLE EVIL PERSON for ever accepting the date in the first place.... And now they're not friends and I'm trapped in the middle...for some inane reason.

So, yeah, I need a freaking road map. Excuse me while I go purchase one.

Dear Verizon

I hate you.

I hate you so much.

I hate you so fucking much that I almost ripped the fucking receiver box thingy out of the wall, drove up to Crane Beach and threw the fucking thing in the ocean. I hate you so much, in fact, that if I ever have the opportunity to come into contact with ANY of your higher ups, I will rip his throat out and feed it to him, with a side of shit.

The shit is a metaphor for your fucking horrible service.

Fuck you, Verizon. FUCK YOU.

I can see the whole of infinity... but I can't see you.

She's ballsy, I like that. Though, I can't say I wouldn't do the same in her position. She wants to make sure that I know that it's completely over and she gets to fuck him now.

I'm upset.

I'm upset because I know he doesn't care about me. Not as a friend, not with any kind of respect for what we had, and he certainly doesn't hold any of that basic human respect he claims to be so full of.

My feelings are completely selfish. I want him to be more upset about losing me. I want him to languish in his own pain, not trotting off to Cadiz with that pig-faced slag.

And what's worse is that I know that if he loves her, no woman will ever be as beautiful as she is in his eyes.

I'm not upset or hurt because I don't want him to have happily ever after....

I'm upset and hurt because he was MY happily ever after. Everyone goes on and on about perfect love and that love you'd move the stars for, and love that spans oceans and time, and I FUCKING HAD THAT.

I had that and he decided he'd rather be with that pigfaced creature, whose only crime is being with the man that I loved.

And I really have nothing to say because within two weeks of coming back from Spain I was fucking someone else. To be fair, this someone else is my ex, my "Mister Big" if such a thing exists, and with "Clark" and I it's never just fucking, and I know that completely destroys my entire argument and I don't care.

I don't care because even though I'm sleeping with someone else, he's going on holiday with someone else, and he's spending all his extra time with someone else, and while I'm terrified of letting myself have feelings for anyone because of what he did to me, he gets to move on and not care and for that I kind of hate him.

Thinking about this makes me want to do things to myself I gave up a long time ago.
Thinking about this makes me want to break a promise I made to someone who means more to me than he ever did.
Thinking about how much pain he's still causing me without even doing anything but moving on makes me want...