From Insecure Back to Heartless

Last week was pretty damn strange for me. I decided to let someone in and open up. I went all lame and had feelings for someone. I had feelings for someone for the first time since Isaiah. I went all crazy girl and acted like an insecure little bitch. I'm actually wicked happy it's over.

I met this guy who turned out to be the ex of a girl I used to work with. We really got along but he was so flip floppy about his feelings for me. He claimed to like me, but then made a point to say he didn't want to be serious. He still had all these pictures of his ex all over the house and occasionally still referred to her as his wife. Then he just made me feel like complete and utter shit. So yeah, no thank you. I'm totally over that.

The night he gave me the whole spiel about not being serious, I started seeing other guys again. He saw me making out with another guy that night and still felt the need to question me about it. Now I've just fallen back into the habit of making out with everyone when I'm drinking, which is quite often. Though I can't blame them all on my drunkenness.

I have about an hour to get ready for a first date and I'm sitting here typing away. My hair is going to take the majority of that time. I should probably go, but I'm sure I won't. For some reason my procrastination is over shadowing my excitement to see a good movie. Perhaps I actually have missed sharing all my secrets with all my internet friends.

Fan and a Candle

I'm in bed tonight as my mind circles. I lit a candle so I can watch the flame dance around the issue just as I am. I've been avoiding way too much lately and I still don't feel up to the task of facing it. I'm still a massive fan of ignoring my problems.

I'm lonely tonight, just as I am every night. I pretend I'm not, I pretend I don't care about anything. I am no where near ready or comfortable enough to open my heart back up, even though the ex supposedly has a new girlfriend. He was the first person I had truly loved in years and he ruined everything for me. I don't trust, especially after he cheated. He further proved my self worth and now I'm trying to own it.

I've shut off my heart and all emotions. I refuse to let myself be caught up in commitment and relationships. I get drunk and sleep around. The only connection I'm okay with is the physical. Now when I feel the need to be close to someone, I hit up the bar and find someone willing. It's caused my count to go up a bit, but I was over that a while ago.

I've recently had the marriage conversation with a new friend. I don't think I'm meant for it. I like the idea and would love to be married and have a family one day, I just don't see it happening. I don't see myself ever feeling comfortable enough with a good enough person for it to ever occur. I thought I found the one twice and both times I was used. At this rate the only reason I think I'd become a wife is to enter into a contract marriage with one of the local higher ups.

I'm bundled up and the temperature around me changes. A fan on one side and the candle on the other. Cool on one side and hot on the other. Just like me.

A New Start

There's a lot that happened since I last wrote. I'm not even going to bother to catch everyone up. I'm just going to start back up where I am now. If you're actually curious about what I'm not divulging, simply ask. I'll tell.

As for now, I'm going to attempt to use this to keep myself in check. Trying to cut down on drinking and random hookups. I'm trying to be more responsible, though I don't see any of that actually happening. We'll see how this goes, I sure as hell need an outlet other than getting drunk and acting like a lunatic.

Saturday marked one month since Rob was in a car accident, the day his expiration date read one week. I'm still angry. I've denounced any emotional attachments to people that could potentially hurt me somewhere in the distant or not so distant future. I've decided that being single is the best possible thing for me right now while simultaneously having dreams about marriage and pregnancy. My brain is in such a state of contradiction I'm pretty sure it's peaking at World Record status.

I've had almost no voice for almost a week now. I talk as little as possible, though I still find myself talking about the death. I miss my ghetto Canadian. I miss walking through the neighborhood smoking cigars like we're cool kids. I voice my fears and losses even when I don't have a voice. The funny part in all this, I'm getting hit on more with no voice and state of constant anger.

I want to be back on my Cape Cod beaches. The ocean was always the one constant in my life, even though it's ever changing. The rolling waves crashing against the jetties always had a way of straightening out my thoughts.

Love Kills Or How I'm Using Rob's Death to Justify Why I Hate Love

My friend died. My ghetto Canadian is gone. My friend of just a few years, whom was more than a friend at one point, passed away two days ago after being in a coma for a week. I've been in denial just slightly.

I'm officially in the anger phase.

I'm mad at Rob. The fucking asshole did it to himself. The accident was his fault. He was speeding in the downpour and hit a sharp curve going too fast. He left his lane and got clipped by a pick up. He drives drove a tiny ass car, smaller than the one I drive now. This caused him to fish tail, getting t-boned by a second pick up. His car flipped. Fuck you, Rob, for causing this and being to goddamn stupid to slow down in that weather.

Rob had gotten into a fight that morning with his girlfriend. They broke up because she didn't love him anymore while he was still in love with her. He said he didn't care to live anymore. Well, apparently someone was listening and made it happen. He fucking gave up and stopped fighting to live. She even had the goddamn nerve to show up at the hospital even though no one wanted her there. So fuck you, bitch, I'm blaming this all on you.

I spoke to him the night before this happened. Twelve hours before he was speeding down that road, Rob was talking to me. He said he missed me, he told me his plans to move to the Carolinas to be close to his best friend, my cousin, who had moved to South Carolina. He fucking hit on me. We talked about the time we had tried to go out. Our one date, the time we slept together, joked about it happening it again. Well guess what, asshole? It fucking won't.

I'm officially convinced that he died because of love. I'm going to stay convinced no matter how much anyone tried to prove otherwise, which many attempted earlier. Everything that caused his death started with his broken heart. So fuck love. Fuck relationships.

I'm using this one thing as an excuse to justify my commitment issues. What's the point of a relationship when it just ends in pain and ultimately death? Sorry, but I much rather live and not want to die everyday. I haven't wanted or been able to handle a relationship in a while and at this point, I don't even think I want to deal with a bone buddy. That's too much commitment for me.

I can't deal with anymore personal relationships at this point in time. I'm too angry. I'm angry with just about everything. Love, relationships, commitment, life, people, the world. When I want to punch something or someone everything five minutes, I don't think it's smart to involve people in my life. I can barely feel my hand from punching the ceiling of my car all night.

Love is pointless.

Apathetic

It's raining. It has been for a few hours now. The sky has been dark and stormy for quite awhile. Nature is crying for me so I won't waste any more of my tears on you.

Whether these tears be from anger or sadness, they won't fall any longer. I've finally realized you aren't worth the effort. You never put the effort into me and now I'm done. This is the end of me worrying over you and this is the end of me caring.

I no longer love you. I no longer hate you. The thought of you brings about no emotion. You're just another number in my phone. Another name on my computer. Another face in my memory. That's all. This is going to be the last time I write to you. You're no longer worth the space on this site.

The scars you caused will fade just as you have from my life.

My Taste In Men Is The Worst

So. I apparently have a major issue with guys my own age. I either like guys my younger brother's age, which I won't touch because of the whole "you're only freshly legal thing and I don't feel like cradle robbing right now" mood of things. Or, I like guys way older. Like, in their thirties. I'm sure you remember that debacle with Jeremiah, my 31 year old hook up who ended up ruining the universe. Well... there's a new one I have my eye on. Who is, you guessed it, ten years my senior.

I happen to think he's absolutely gorgeous. He certainly doesn't look his age, I honestly judged him at 25 when I first met him. So. Chris is a week into the job and flirting with me, so I invited him to a party this past Friday night. I got out about 9, so I ended over to the party early and was the first one there as per my usual. I cracked open a beer and relaxed waiting for everyone else to get off work. Once a decent amount of people got there, the beer pong games started. Courtney and I won both our games and took bragging rights.

Once I was properly drunk, the closing shift showed up to the party. Which included Chris. I was pretty damn happy about that one. Some more drinking occurred, one or four blunts were passed around. I was basically glued to his side all night. I told him it was his job to keep me warm and giggled on the inside when his arm was around me. I told him straight out I thought he was hot and that people kept leaving us alone because of that.

Busted Circadian Rhythms & Whore Delights

I'm delaying getting ready for work. I'm practically a zombie. My stupidity and my busted circadian rhythm wouldn't let me sleep until four hours ago. My schedule went all wacky this weekend and I ended up getting roped into working this morning.

My mood has been all crazy lately. It's been a rollercoaster. I was pissy yesterday morning due to a friend, but then surprisingly okay as the day wore on. But then I got to work and found out Melvin is now out of jail and he never let me know, like I asked him to. So I immediately texted, still haven't gotten an answer. That put me in a shit mood for the rest of the night. Which caused a headache. Hey gang, I apparently am famous for tension headaches. I guess I'm happy to finally know why I get headaches like no one's business, I just assumed I had a screwy brain.

With the headache, my ruined manicure, and a work rush, I was ready to punch someone. When I was finally allowed to have a smoke break, I just collapsed on the ground and dazed out. I talked to Tj some about why I was upset. No names of course, but I told him the guy I liked was being douchey and that I should probably stop going after douches. He responded that girls never give good guys, like him, a chance. I said, "Tj, I haven't gone after a good guy in years. Let alone given one a chance."

I Say Vag A Lot

I'm sitting here all decked out, in a sleepy way. I had another proposed date tonight, but stood up once again. That boy is officially on my shit list. But I'm wearing my best, laciest lingerie, boxers, shirt that all but shows off said lacy bra, and my hair is all wavy and beautiful. I pulled out all the stops for tonight but when he was thirty minutes late I gave up and drove home. Apparently I'm only worth his joke. Aw shucks.

It's got me thinking even more about the relationship bullshit we put ourselves through. Putting so much effort into something that's probably just going to implode somewhere down the line. So I would like to welcome back and introduce you all to Cold, Heartless Bitch Jess. I missed her and I know you'll all love her. She ditched the black pit that was once her heart and only thinks with her vag. And has shittons of fun while she's at it.

I haven't really used my alter ego since moving and damn am I ready for it. I began to a few weeks ago. I'm sure you all remember. Stalker to Jeremiah to Shane, who by the way I need to call. God that boy is just what I need right now. String free boning. Yes please! I stopped using her to try and keep my numbers down. That was a wicked funny celibacy stint, SO glad I kicked that. My vag was becoming quite sick of Fernando. He might be good for a quick fix during a lonely night, but nowhere near as good as the real thing. Batteries only go so far. And obviously doesn't beat me. I would prefer to be bruised up just a tad, please? Haha, sex deprivation is sinking in quickly. I may have to call Shane tomorrow after work. XD

Rantrantrant. I'm just all over the place tonight, and I swear I'm sober. Promise. Pinky swear. Satisfied? Good. Now moral of the story? Always put your vag first. =]