Or this woman will start eating kittens.
queer and loathing in the nation's capital
I just broke up with someone whom I really, really liked.
You would think that by now that it’d be easier, having gone through this a few times and, in this particular situation, having seen the warning signs for two months.
I never thought that after posting that last entry that I’d already grow the balls to actually breech the subject.
Apparently balls thrive in alcohol.
Somehow “so how was your day” turned into “so where are we at?” after pent up anxiety and vodka met half way.
Yet again, the answers were “I’m not ready to live my life with one person” and “my life isn’t where I want it to be”.
To quote Motley Crue… “It’s the same old situation — the same old ball and chain.”
I’ve never accepted that as a valid reason why you can’t date someone. Fuck, just admit you’re not that into me. “I”m not in a position to…” implies that you think I wont accept you for who you are and I’ve always found it insulting.
Either way… for better or worse… here I am: 12:29am on a Friday morning and curling up in a fetal position with my kitties.
Furthermore, if hear “it’s not you, it’s him” I’m either going to burn this fucking city to the ground or someone is losing a testicle; just sayin’.
Don’t know what you’re talking about.