So I talked tough. The truth is I hate love. I hate when I fall in love. It's only happened a few times in my life really. A few others I could see how a woman had this perfection about her and could imagine the ways we could make eachother happy but I knew those wouldn;t work out. I could picture them when they were sad when I ended it and it made me sad. I thought how the fuck does this world have such strange occurences. Then tried to never think about again. Except when it was me who had the broken heart. The big one made me so sad so i went on a fucking binge. But I couldn't stop thinking about her so I just got really sad. Then life got all fucked up. Then I joined the army. After years it went away.

I started a few relationships when I was better but they didn't work out for various reasons which was fine. So I just lived and figured my shit out. Then as it always seems to happen I wasn't looking for it, life was getting better and better successes were mounting and I was just enjoying life. Went to an afternoon hockey game with a good, old friend and it happened to be the Saturday that St. Patty's day is celebrated on. It was a happen-stance conversation in the middle of the street. It started, "That guy just asked me to strap a dildo on and fuck him. He thought I was a cross dresser." WHAT. I mean seriously you don't expect those words to usher in love. Not in a million years. It was awful really but then when I started saying the fucked up shit I always say it really didn't matter. Then when you're getting to know a girl and at the same time helping to babysit her overly-drunken sister and getting to know one another you're like fuck. No guards, "high-light reel you," just plain you. Impressing with the slightest hint of pretense only in the mocking pretenses sort of pretense and bam. The bus you didn't see coming that used to be the fucking arrow in the ass hits...

So I talked tough. The truth is I hate love. I hate when I fall in love. It's only happened a few times in my life really. A few others I could see how a woman had this perfection about her and could imagine the ways we could make eachother happy but I knew those wouldn;t work out. I could picture them when they were sad when I ended it and it made me sad. I thought how the fuck does this world have such strange occurences. Then tried to never think about again. Except when it was me who had the broken heart. The big one made me so sad so i went on a fucking binge. But I couldn't stop thinking about her so I just got really sad. Then life got all fucked up. Then I joined the army. After years it went away.

I started a few relationships when I was better but they didn't work out for various reasons which was fine. So I just lived and figured my shit out. Then as it always seems to happen I wasn't looking for it, life was getting better and better successes were mounting and I was just enjoying life. Went to an afternoon hockey game with a good, old friend and it happened to be the Saturday that St. Patty's day is celebrated on. It was a happen-stance conversation in the middle of the street. It started, "That guy just asked me to strap a dildo on and fuck him. He thought I was a cross dresser." WHAT. I mean seriously you don't expect those words to usher in love. Not in a million years. It was awful really but then when I started saying the fucked up shit I always say it really didn't matter. Then when you're getting to know a girl and at the same time helping to babysit her overly-drunken sister and getting to know one another you're like fuck. No guards, "high-light reel you," just plain you. Impressing with the slightest hint of pretense only in the mocking pretenses sort of pretense and bam. The bus you didn't see coming that used to be the fucking arrow in the ass hits ya.

Then you fall hard. But there's those ideals tha get in the way sometimes. You forget about the person. You start thinking fuck I'm going to be in Iraq in a few months again. There's precious little time and you start panicing and there's distance between you, physical distance for a short time. And you're thinking man I'd love to do this with her. I always wanted to do this because it'd be special. And people get busy and you want to spend some time with her but it's a fucking telephone and you can say shit on the phone but it gets hard after a while. But it's hard not to think that one of the two guys she lives with might make move. You're envious of those fucks though they supposedly have no chance. But you remember when that was you and two girls and you used to date one and basically were fuck buddies the whole time you lived together. And it twists the mind a bit. Then she's not calling or texting like she was. Goes camping a few days without her phone and no fucking explanation. It's fucked really. All you want is to get a call or a text to hear those three words again. Feel reassured. But you texted her a bit freaked out because the last text you got when you were in the shower late at night was I missed you but I'll talk to you tommorrow. You buy flowers for her the next morning because finals are coming up and she's been stressed and you want to make her happy and excited and take the stress away for a few moment.s Sort of put order into the chaos. No call and the day moves on. And you're thinking she's avoiding me because she's hooked up with someone. I mean how can you not? So you send a text saying tell what's going on because in the back of your mind you're thinking my god maybe she was raped, beaten or murdered or had some strange illness and no one knows to contact you. But you're hoping maybe it's just another guy and at least she's all right. then you recall what it's like to be raped. And it's fucked up really. So you write a text saying just tell you're okay because I'm afraid.

And in the end really it's all about being scared shitless because you find yourself vulnerable and really we're always vulnerable to so many things but we like to pretend things are fine and orderly and the next day will be somewhat like the last but that gets boring so you look for a little excitement. Then she texts you about the camping and you call her back b/c you're driving back home going 90 and it's hard to text going 90 on a two lane highway. And it seems like everything's fine but you sense an awkwardness. Then you don't hear from her.
And you beat your head over and over.