Friday, September 24, 2010

Help Me, Help You.


This week has been interesting. I could sit here and type all the bullshit that has occurred, but I would need some crayons to draw you all pictures, because it's that elementary (and retarded, I would draw you a retarded picture to demonstrate).  Long story short, the DB that dicked me around, was also dicking his so called "ex". I got a call from her best Friend, who I talk to maturely and told her nothing but the truth about what had gone on. She was super cool. I wrote the girlfriend the other night to give her my peace and heartfelt words about how sorry I was that she was hurting. I'm a girls girl. I will NEVER /betray/dick/lie/fight a girl over a guy. I knew that by me sending her that, I would A. Hear back, with a thank you, I appreciate it, reply (which is what I would do), or B. Not hear from her (which is what I would do if I wasn't as cool as I am today). I didn't think C was even an option, but long behold, C it was. What is C? Well, C. She won't write back, but he will write me playing the hero asking me to leave her alone. Yeah. this is where I now put down the laptop, pick up the crayons and draw you a picture of 2 dumb dumbs!

I'm floored by the level of immaturity. Maybe I have just been lucky to have had people who are open minded and people who just get it. Get it! GET IT? Grow up people! Handle things. Deal with them. In the real world you have to communicate with people. Damn!

I also have to remember that not all stories will end like the one me and this Cool Chick have. I love the Kate Greer's of the world. They get it. Life is sucky sometimes. It's nice to get the fact that it's temporary, and that the other person involved is not the enemy. Girls have this mentality that just because they have a guy in common they are never to connect. Kate and I are prove that if you're open minded enough to let go of the bullshit, all that stands is a really cool chick, who you happen to call one of your Best Friends now.

This situation this week made me realize a lot. The most import thing is that I love to write, it's my therapy, but that I won't be wasting anymore time in the 5 th grade. Point me to the nearest Hight School football team.

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