This is what I say, “You know what I want.”
This is what I want to say, “Hey, I really like you a lot and could really see this working out between us and I was wondering if you felt the same way and maybe this could advance to something more and I’m SOOO tired of waiting for you to say something because just saying my name over and over and OVER again and then sighing really doesn’t explain anything to me and I don’t speak your mysterious silent language of eye-gazing so could you pleaseeeeeeeeee just say something, anything to let me know what the EFF is going on in your head and what you’re thinking and what you want from me and I’m not saying boyfriend because that whole thing is just silly but do you want to enter into some kind of a committed relationship even though we’re both liars and both broke and both so confused and have crazy schedules and run around with our friends and get drunk because honestly life’s so short and I don’t wanna waste my time anymore and I like you.”
Seriously. Kids, there’s only one of me, and uh, she moves pretty quickly off the assembly line. I’m gonna give him till the end of this week, oh look its Friday already! And oh look! I’m going to get drunk Saturday night in Atlantic City and probably wear something entirely too short to the point where Law begs me to wear underwear and act like the reckless whorebag that I once was and probably end up on the ground laughing hysterically about how fabulous I am and what douchebags guys are. So this is me (in the spirit of the election season), casting my final ‘I give up because you’re a pussy that’s afraid to express yourself freely to me’ ballot.
I would have saved myself a lot of trouble had I cast this ballot for Sho in the early months of budding spring, rather than TRY SO HARD, and SACRIFICE my self-respect to PRY things out of him and deal with his giggles and squirms and stammers at the mere utter of the words relationship, boyfriend or girlfriend. I deserve more, I deserve someone who WANTS me to be THEIR girlfriend, THEIR GIRL. I suppose I’m looking for some kind of pride, to feel worth something to someone else, to feel so desirable and necessary in someone’s life that they wouldn’t leave me, or wouldn’t want to leave me, and would WANT to have something with me even if it meant craziness, because hey, I’m worth it. Even A-bomb refrained from his travels to be with me! DAMN!
You don’t “have” me, you never “had” me, and you never will.
“Where’s my girl?”
