Confessions.

I’d forgotten how god damn cathartic blogging can be. Speaking of ‘god damn’, though, I’m going to try taking a page from the Catholics and confessing trespasses I’ve made (at least all I can remember) and apologizing to people. I’ll actually name names here, so if you don’t want to know shit I may have said about you, I wouldn’t read any further. These are in no particular order.

 

Nicole- I’m sorry I’ve called you crazy, slutty, and a cheater. I’m sorry for the (no)thing with Jack. And I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.

Jack- I’m sorry I can’t like you that way. I’m sorry for leading you on. And I’m sorry for saying you kiss funny.

Raigh- I’m sorry for saying that you were kinda slutty, too. I’m sorry for saying you’re a flake and that you’re two-faced. I’m sorry for zipping away without a word of explanation as to why I did it. It wasn’t because you hurt me, believe it or not, but because I was afraid that you wouldn’t hesitate to do it again and it might hurt me next time.

Johnathan- I’m sorry I said you have problems.

Misc. guys that have come and gone- I’m sorry I likely called you creepy and probably gave you wrong phone numbers. I’m sorry I couldn’t be less shallow. I’m sorry I couldn’t like you for more than three days.

Beth- I’m sorry for saying that you’re annoying and slightly promiscuous. I’m sorry that I have a tendency to only befriend you when I need something.

Miles- I’m sorry for all those times that I called you a bad person. I’m sorry for all the shit that went down between us that made us hate each other.

Jerod- I’m sorry we made each other crazy.

Rykie- I’m sorry I called you overly feminist. I’m sorry that we’ve mostly lost touch. And I’m sorry that I conspired with your sister to ruin your life your senior year of high school. =P

Daniel- I’m sorry for that time frame after Amanda.

Jeska- I’m sorry I called you a tubby whore. I’m sorry we clashed so much as roommates.

Amber- I’m sorry I called you kinda flaky.

 

But you are. That’s enough for now; I was starting to feel like I was writing a suicide note or something. One last note: Just because I’m apologizing for these things doesn’t mean I take them back (for the most part) or that they won’t happen again. I never learn.

The Bet.

Whoever has sex first wins. It quickly became clear that it wasn’t gonna happen for either of us. So we did what we do best. Made it infinitely easier by changing it to ‘whoever gets a –kiss- first wins’ and made it slightly more insidious by adding the stipulation that the kissee can’t know that it’s for a bet. Only mildly heartless, right?

The sad thing? It’s been nearly a month now and neither of us are even close to winning. –sigh-

Girlfriends

Jill (as in Jill-off) and Jenn are best friends. Jenn beats a hasty retreat and Jill is heartbroken. I’m with you so far. Then Jill writes Jenn off, talks shit, and is generally bitchy. Which is understandable to an extent. Then Jill pairs up with Jane and the duo are inseparable. Jane finds out about past transgressions made by yours truly months and months ago, runs with half a story instead of finding out what happened, and writes –me- off. Why, yes, Augusta girls –are- overly-dramatic. What gave it away? Now because Jane has disowned me, Jill has followed suit. My loss, right? Then Jill and Jane have the expected blow-out and write each –other- off. What’s the logical next step here? Oh, right, Jane buddying up with Jenn. Ladies, ladies. How do you ever keep track of where your loyalties lie?

Please don’t feed me lines about some idealistic future

Your heart won’t heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures

 

So a week ago I sent him an email with Bowling for Soup lyrics (It’s too bad and it’s too late/You were such a big mistake/Please don’t call me anymore/…I used to miss you) and haven’t spoken to him since. I thought I’d have to run to get away, but it turns out we’d already drifted farther away than I could ever run.

 

“I wish I could have known you back before you were the cynical bitch you are now.”

“You wouldn’t’ve liked me. I was damn annoying.”

But then I remember a beautiful lady who –did- like me. Liked me a fuck of a lot. And I can see her sitting with me in that hellhole apartment where I was slowly drained of my sanity and sunny disposition. And I hear her asking, “What happened to you?”. And I want to cry.

 

I’m not going to name names. This isn’t about calling people out or pointing fingers. This is about me, not you. Don’t get me wrong; there will be shit-talking and plenty of it. But the names have been changed to protect…hell, is anyone innocent anymore?