January 27, 2010

I did it again. Not Britney style. There were no catsuits. Sadly.

I spent the weekend with Madison and Detroit. Which of course led to wild excursions, most of which are worth mentioning, but I’ll refrain. It was good.

So good, in fact, it instigated a fight with FC. He thinks he is my father. I don’t want him to be. He’s not talking to me for the time being.

I found out he’s moving to live with Madison maybe. I can’t handle the possibility of the guy I like living with my best friend. I am so torn up. I’ve been waiting for and wanting this to happen forever. But now that it’s a plausible I am crumbling. Besides he doesn’t like, or love me. All of my hopes are in vain.

Why waste time and effort on an impossible guy like FC, when hook-ups are much easier?

In fact, when I think about all the  time and effort Madison and Detroit expend attempting to keep their relationship stable I feel queasy. It’s like a part-time job where the pay is unquantifiable and never steady. It’s like being a waitress.  Why wait on love?

What is love? And who put it on the “must-have” list? Shakespeare? God? Man?

The search for love is masochistic, futile, selfish, and necessary. The search is never like the movies.

Sex and the City. That is the truth. Samantha ends up all alone.


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