therealtexasguy

That bitch dropped me a line again. Ah! She is the fucking master of the clandestine. Did she say this to mean THAT, or that to mean THIS, or what the fuck!? I hate that shit. I cannot stand people who say one thing and mean an entirely different thing.

But its not entirely fair for me to bitch. I wear my heart on my sleeve (those who know me will dispute this vehemently, but I do, in my own way). I always says what I mean, and I never lie. Never. Well, OK, so I never challenged Spains Greatest Bullfighter to a pistol duel at dawn in Madrid, but everything else I say is truth!

I'm thinking of just calling her and telling her to stop calling and writing me. There's no point! That's what I don't fucking understand!!!! She writes me the most mundane shit! We NEVER discuss shit anymore, and we never write each other any interesting. Neither of us can possibly be gaining anything from this anymore, so what's the fucking point? I tried asking her why she keeps in touch with me when we don't even really talk, and, of course, she just fucking ignored the question.

Truth be told, I don't really care anymore. Shit's been so fucked up between us for long enough that I don't feel for her as I once did. I still care for her, deeply, but I no longer want to be with her. Short of her moving next door so we could spend a lot of time together and really get to know each other all over again, I see no salvation. This fills me with sorrow, but it is what it is.

See, my greatist flaw isn't my hubris, though that is a big problem, but my decisiveness. Once I make up my mind, I'm very much unwavering in my ressolve. Not in everything, of course, but on big decisions, once I've come to a decision after contemplating it for a long time - that's it. It's set in stone. I've already come to the conclusion that her and I will never be, and that's that.

Then why the FUCK do I still think about her! Whenever I get drunk I want to call her up and tell her how much I miss her, but when I'm sober I don't think of her hardly ever. What's that mean? That juxtaposition of emotion!? They say the drunk may be abrasive and crude, but is anything but insincere. Or does alcohol amplify dormant emotions? Fuck, I think it's a little of both.

OK, this is far too long. I just got back from Barnes and Noble. Got a Resident Evil book (they suck, but are addictive like crack - it's like an Arnold Swarzenegger movie - a lot of bullshit fluff injected with raw action) and a book on Zen Buddhism. I could use a little help achieving inner peace, or at the very least balance.