Friday, June 12, 2009
Still Here
I type in the words- gucci, fendi, miu miu. I'm working on shoes and handbags. I'm wishing that all I had to think about is shoes and handbags. But instead, I think about the friend that just asked me what i would do.
I would leave. I tell her. I feel strongly about abuse. And I have promised myself that I would never stay with a man that hit me.
Its an issue that is way beyond my maturity level. I want to make jokes. I want to escape to handbags and shoes.
I say the wrong things. I'm awkward and uncomfortable. With no real relationship experience under my belt, everything that i think and feel and say feels trite and cliche.
I want to make her happy, for even an hour or a minute. I want to do anything i can to lessen her burden. To make things easier for her. No amount of money seems too big, no effort too insurmountable. Just to make her laugh.
Everything comes out wrong.
Last night, after I flipped the guy off that was honking at me while I retrieved my coat from the cab, he called me a "fat cunt."
Then I came inside to an email from someone who is not my friend anymore, telling me that she can't be my friend because i'm too mean.
I've got no crush. No one in my black book. No one on the back burner. Even Mr. 11 won't return my text messages for reasons completely unknown.
Life... isn't great.
I would leave. I tell her. I feel strongly about abuse. And I have promised myself that I would never stay with a man that hit me.
Its an issue that is way beyond my maturity level. I want to make jokes. I want to escape to handbags and shoes.
I say the wrong things. I'm awkward and uncomfortable. With no real relationship experience under my belt, everything that i think and feel and say feels trite and cliche.
I want to make her happy, for even an hour or a minute. I want to do anything i can to lessen her burden. To make things easier for her. No amount of money seems too big, no effort too insurmountable. Just to make her laugh.
Everything comes out wrong.
Last night, after I flipped the guy off that was honking at me while I retrieved my coat from the cab, he called me a "fat cunt."
Then I came inside to an email from someone who is not my friend anymore, telling me that she can't be my friend because i'm too mean.
I've got no crush. No one in my black book. No one on the back burner. Even Mr. 11 won't return my text messages for reasons completely unknown.
Life... isn't great.
