All better now
9:13 p.m.

Dear Tommy,

I still hate you. I have to hate you, because if I ever stop hating you, I might remember how much I used to love you, and then it's going to get really fucked up in this bizatch, and I can't handle that.

So stop being cute. Stop rubbing my back and holding doors open for me and kissing me softly and smelling good and singing me love songs and calling me just to say "hi" and dancing at random and innappropriate times with me. These are my weaknesses, and I can't afford to have weaknesses.

Besides, I am already in love - but not with you. You lost your fucking chance because I was too young for you, and too shy for you, and too cute for you. I was everything you ever needed and you couldn't see that, so I moved on. And now I have HIM, and I don't care how hard you try to convince me that it isn't enough, because it is. When I've had a hard day, and I need a soft place to fall, he is THERE. Not out for a drink, not singing in his band, not rehearsing for his next big role. THERE. Where he should be. Where you never were.

Yeah.

Plus, you're too short and everybody knows you're gay. Though the gay part doesn't bother me. It's mostly that you're too short. And your teeth are too white.

There. All better now.

-Me

<< - >>