Saturday, January 31, 2009

Guna Die Alone the last chapter

Mexico was gone, and I couldn’t keep up my façade. I had magically gone from 5 women 0 in a matter of days.

I felt like some wild beast roaming blind through the wilderness, looking for someone to maul, as I thrash about, and crash into trees. I was all alone.

At least twice during her stay in Fort Collins, I reminded mexico of what I told her before she came out to see me. I’m a mess, and it’s not going to happen. I fucking told her this, over and over, but she still didn’t quite understand. That’s women for you. Now at this point I won’t go off on some tangent about how crazy chicks are or that they don’t listen or whatever. I told her the truth, but she still didn’t get it. So all I really have to say is UGH!

To be honest I missed Sarah more than ever. I didn’t just miss her because I was lonely, and had pulled a relationship Titanic over the last few months.

I missed her, because I missed her. And I’m exhausted from trying to convince myself and everyone else that I don’t miss her. I’d be taking the easy way out if I blamed all of these events on Sarah. That just isn’t my style. Sure she had something to do with it, no doubt, but what it comes down to is my inability to handle these situations in a manner that regular people would consider “proper”. I was really upset when she left, and my usual routine of tearing everything around me to shreds, just seemed like the best option. None of those girls would have ever been as good as she was in my mind. I knew that then, and I know that now. I just didn’t know what else to do.

Anyway, as I said in the last entry, the story isn’t over yet. My anger gets one more shot.

So Mexico is gone, but despite my efforts, she just doesn’t fucking get it. She keeps calling me, and sending me messages so all I can think to do is ignore her. It’s a classic maneuver. Take sand, insert face, then hope for the best. Sadly, this usually never works, and of course it didn’t. Then she gets angry. She is convinced that I’m fucking other girls.

I hope you all appreciate the irony of this situation. At this point I’m not actually fucking anybody, and she’s accusing me of cheating. Cheating! I fucking told this stupid sack of estrogen that I didn’t want anything to do with her. Now I’m cheating! What the fuck!

This just goes on and on by the way. Not for days, but for weeks. More or less the entire month of December. Here are a few examples of the text messages she sent me, since I won’t answer my phone.

“When did it get to the point where you cringe every time I try and talk to you?” That’s fucking creepy. How the fuck can she see me doing that from fucking Arizona?

“…Oh and tell your new fuck friend I said hi…dick!” Yeah that’ll hurt my feelings. Good one. Moments later I get this next one.
“I’m not some stupid blonde you know. I’m a brunette with brains.” Now that’s funny. Considering that you are a brunette, you’re acting pretty fucking stupid.

“I’m driven, and I have goals. None of those other skanks you fuck will ever hold a candle to me.” That’s an epic fail if I’ve ever heard one.

I’m not making this shit up, in case you were curious. These are all actual messages that I received from her, after I told her that we couldn’t date. She fucking crazy isn’t she? Sometime after this my buddy Tim took my phone when we were drunk and sent her a text message, after I had been berated by her for a good hour. He thought it would be pretty funny, and I’ll agree it is fairly hilarious to think about it now, but at the time I was pretty pissed about it. He took my phone and told her, “You made my room smell like butterflies.”

He sent this because we had been joking about how she did make my room smell like butterflies, rainbows, unicorns and all that gay fucking shit I can’t stand. But it backfired terrible, because that crazy whore thought that it meant I missed her. Fucking disaster!

So more crazy messages, just like the examples I have shown you, until I can’t stand it anymore. So I call her and I say again that I’m a fucking train wreck, a sinking ship, I’m going down in flames, whatever fucking metaphor you prefer, and that we’re not going to happen. Do you get it lady? We are not going to happen.

Something strange came over me, and I even offered to help her out if she moved here. Which sadly, she is. I said I’d introduce her to some people and help her get settled or whatever since I’m the only person she knows here. Probably a mistake on my part, but at the time it seemed like an ok idea. But at the end I reiterated that we would never happen.

She still didn’t get it. So I say we can be friends or nothing, does that make sense? Then she asks me to define friends. To which I respond, what the fuck do you think it means? Friends! The classic definition of friends. As in no fucking! Then she went off about how I was talking to other girls, and sleeping with them and shit. So my patients have run out at this point. I tell that worthless pile of cunt slut that up to this point she was the last girl that I’d had sex with, and that even if I was fucking other girls I can do whatever the fuck I want because I’d already told her that we weren’t going to be together! FUCK!

Think of every scene from every movie where some guy’s head explodes. Scanners is a good one. Anyway, think of that, and that is me at that moment. I then hung up the phone. She still sends me messages from time to time, but I’m not interested in talking to her.

Alright, so all of this shit with mexico is going on all the while princess is still around. The next time I see princess after the bean spilling incident, she still comes up to me and gives me a big hug, and I talk to her about my interesting week. I inform her I had kind of a shitty week, to which she inquires, “Because of the Mexico girl?” Hilarious. I say yes, and tell her that I broke it off with crazy face.

Then it was odd. We carried on our relationship like the whole incident never happened. Still lots of flirting, touching, and stuff. She’ll come up to me give me a big delicious hug and say she “loves me to bits”, or something like that. And yes, it still turns me to mush every time. So then I start to thinking, maybe all is not lost on this one. Maybe I can still salvage some sort of relationship with this chick. It wouldn’t be Sarah, but no one is going to be Sarah. I need to move on, Sarah had already moved on.

So we keep hanging out somewhat regularly as we had done before. Then on one particular evening, when princess, a few of our mutual friends, and I were all pretty drunk, I had an interesting conversation with one of the crew. It was at the very end of the evening, and we were all about to part ways. As I said we were all pretty fucking wasted so I can’t really remember how we got to this point in the conversation, but I certainly remember what followed.

It more or less consisted of him telling me about how we all see princess as this sisterly figure we all want to look out for. The first thing that came to my mind was that this guy must not be very good at paying attention, since the last thing I wasn’t to do with princess is think of her as my sister. I also thought I was totally obvious about it. Regardless, I humor him. He then continues that line of thought with how we all like to look out for her and stuff as a result. Right drunky I get it, we’re all friends and we look out for one another, what the fuck is your point? Then he mentions how she’s made some bad choices. Ok, now I’m intrigued.

Before I reveal what he said, I would like to thank alcohol for making people gratuitously, and unnecessarily honest for no fucking reason.

He then informs me of some gentlemen that she had engaged in sexual intercourse with, that he felt was a poor choice, and how he wished she would make better choices. I’m all ears. He names off 2 specific examples of guys she’s slept with fairly recently, and my jaw detaches from my face and falls to the ground.

That had done it. My blue balls burst right there on the spot, as the cage door swung open. I was unleashed on the world again.

He named 2 men that were also regulars at the bar I work at. This didn’t surprise me. They were men that I had to see all the fucking time, and I fucking hated them. For the record I already hated them before I found out they’d had sex with princess. After that I just hated them more.

These 2 guys are probably some of the dirtiest, scummiest, stupidest, frat boy pieces of shit I’ve ever seen. Picture the typical college frat guy, which I’ve already described, and age him a decade, and that is how I would describe these two guys. Still acting exactly the fucking same when they were stuffing nerds in their lockers and slipping sorority sluts pills so a big group of them could all gang bang some chick’s poor unfortunate vagina. Then make them big condescending pricks, since they’re butt hurt they never amounted to anything, which is why they still mow lawns and scoop french fries. I could keep going about how much I hate them, but it comes down to this. Everything that I hate about people, and of course, everything I hate about myself are all crammed into these 2 guys.

Then add the image of them fucking the girl I have a crush. Just the thought of their sweaty nasty fucking asses hovering over her, pawing and gnawing at her skin, only to wriggle their disease ridden cocks up inside her, and huff and puff until they bust a nut…it just makes me want to…it just makes me want to…ugh!

Or the thought of her sucking on those same disease ridden cocks, and swallowing their cum, and actually liking it! The whole thing makes we want to vomit!

So people how angry did this make me? HOW FUCKING ANGRY DID THIS MAKE ME!
Well…

It made me so angry I immediately wanted to go out and murder a litter of puppies. Fuck it, make it a couple litters of puppies. While I’m at it, throw a couple litters of kittens in their too. Then I want to personally strangle each one to death, savoring each whimper, moan, and struggling motion those little fluff balls produce. Just picture those furry little faces and big cute eyes. Go ahead fucking picture it. Now imagine those same cute little eyes fucking exploding from the pressure as I scream and bash their little bodies into the wall. Once I’m done murdering all the puppies and kittens I’d like to cut open all of their tiny little corpses and hate fuck their entrails until I fill each one up with jizz, like a fucking éclair from Dunkin Donuts.

After that I’ll gather all the cute jizz filled bodies and stuff them in a big frilly basket. I will swiftly take that basket to the hospital, and waltz right in to the children’s cancer ward. I’ll stand in the middle of the room and then proceed to pelt all of those pathetic bald mother fuckers with my collection of adorable cadavers packed full with my hateful sperm. When I run out of puppies and kittens to throw I’ll run up to each individual dieing child and smear the cuddly carrion all over their stupid little faces, that are no doubt terrified and dripping with jizz, just to make sure their last moments on Earth are traumatized and full of pain.

Hopefully I’ll make such a scene the cops will show up and murder me in a hail of gunfire as I proclaim that I am The God Of Fuck! Once I’m dead, I’ll sprout those wings of black and ascend into the sky. I’ll tear it asunder and drown the world in my molten jizz before I fly into the sun and put an end to myself as well.

This is how angry I can get.

But for the record, I actually like puppies and kittens.

OK DEEP BREATHS!

So yes the news made me pretty fucking upset, which just added onto my already present frustrations with mexico and everything else. But at least my rage was out again, which meant I had a way of releasing my tension. The fact that I talk about doing these terrible things ensures that I won’t do them. That was the whole point of this blog, in case you forgot.

So I didn’t kill any puppies or kittens, but what I did do was go out the next night, and the next night, and so on and get annihilated, and hate fuck whoever I could find. I was the God of Fuck again, and it felt good.

After a week or two of this I took a moment for self reflection. It occurred to me that I was a giant angry whore, and I’ve had sex with a fair amount of unsavory ladies in my time. Therefore, I decided it would be unfair for me to hate princess for her sexual decisions, when I probably do worse things. Sure, my image of her had been slightly sullied, but fucking whatever. I think to myself, “I’m fucking Mandrew god damnit! And If I want this chick I’ll fucking get her!” Honestly, the things that go through my head sometimes.

So I decide to send her flowers on her birthday, which was at the beginning of January. Once the flowers arrive I’ll tell her what’s been going through my head about her, and see what happens. Now I never fucking send flowers. Like ever. It’s just not my style. I think it’s stupid. Still, I decide to try it since it’s something I never do. Maybe it’ll work out.

So I buy the flowers, and have them delivered to her house on her birthday. When she gets them she immediately calls me. I was asleep. She tells me how much she likes them, and how thoughtful it was, and blah blah blah. I was going to tell her how I was feeling right then but I choked. I don’t know why, but I choked. So that ended poorly, but she told me she’d be at the bar later while I was working to celebrate and stuff, so I figured I’d talk to her then.

Sure enough, while I’m working she comes in ready to party. She gives me a big hug and gets all goopy on me again over the flowers. I choked again. She even came up to me again after all her friends were distracted to talk to me, and I choked a third time. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I realize now that I choked because, princess isn’t Sarah. There’s not much else to say. I don’t figure this out till later of course. I decided after that to stop being a pussy and just go fucking tell her. Anyway, I get busy and don’t get the chance to until later. Right when I’m finally going to do, what is it that I see? Well, I see princess making googly eyes at, and making out with one of the 2 gentlemen I mentioned earlier. She apparently really does like him, despite all the things I’ve observed.

Well, that’s it. That’s fucking it! How angry am I now? Go ahead and guess. How FUCKING ANGRY am I now!

Actually, it didn’t make me angry at all. I just didn’t fucking care. Kind of makes me laugh. Maybe I’m growing as a person. If that’s the guy she likes, then good for her. I just don’t have the energy to keep this up. Good for them I guess.

So that’s it folks. That’s the end of my story. And in case you were wondering, yes, this is the kind of shit that happens to me all the time. Still, I can’t complain. I intend to update this blog regularly, but probably not as frequently as I have been during this story. But if you’ve enjoyed what I’ve said, then please keep reading.

After all that shit I’m alone again, and that’s probably where I should be. I’ve spoken to a few girls since this all went down, but I haven’t really gone out with or slept with anyone. I’m not sure I can adequately explain just how exhausted I am. There’s just one more thing.

Dear Sarah,

Part of me hopes you’ve read all of this, and part of me hopes you’ll just keep living your life happily without any thoughts of me to complicate your situation. If you have been reading, I wonder if you’re so disgusted with me that we’ll never speak again, or if you actually do understand me like I felt you did when we were together.
There’s nothing I can say to let you know how sorry I am. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been honest with you from the start, and that I ruined what we might have had. At this point I would never dream of asking you to uproot your life for me, given the state I find myself in. I just want you to know how important our time together was to me, and that you’ve affected my life for the better. I felt like a better person when you were around. Never lose sight of your goals, and stay true that wonderful person I know you to be.

Love Always,

Andrew


Not long ago Sarah got in touch with me. It came as a welcomed surprise. I felt that calm come over me again, and I was happy for a second. I mentioned to her how I had been trying to take my writing more seriously. She said she was interested in reading some of my stuff. I told her that if she was really interested I’d send her some poems I had written to get her started while I polished some of my longer pieces.

I’ll post those poems soon, for you all to read.

Not long after she got in touch with me again to talk to me about my writing. She said that after she read my poems, she felt there was a great sadness in me. I paused. I didn’t know what to say.

4 comments:

  1. When I was living in Fo Co, I used to have long drawn out conversations with Ryan Shultz. esentially, they were trying to figure out what is better, refinement or expanding of the mind. he argued that it was best to experience all that you can doing everything with out regard. my argument was that it was better to refine your experiences much as a miner refines his ore into ingots.

    I think the answer lies some where in the middle for that argument, but in reading your blog it seems that you have spent a lot of time in the world gaining experiences. living wholly at that extreme. If I may be so bold as to offer you a recommendation. spend some time alone. be a rock. be an island, unto yourself.

    process what you have harvested, winnow out the chafe. (oh and go feel the sun on your skin)

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  2. I totally disagree with what the person before me commented.

    Nothing will ever work out, and if it does, it's not gonna be because of something you did or didn't do.


    Do what you feel like doing, what you really feel like doing, all the time. At least that way, if you wake up dead tomorrow, you'll have something worthwhile.

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  3. No one tired to kill you so don't feel too bad. You also always told people what was up except for stripper, and honestly if anyone would try to actually bleed you to death it's a stripper. (Trust me I speak from experience.) She hasn't so job well done.

    Live your life and my only real advice is that you should learn to fuck without the hate every once in a while.

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  4. never learn to fuck without the hate

    ReplyDelete