My alter ego couldn't take it anymore. He's been KO'd. Now it's up to me. The question to ask is, How much shit would a shitstorm sling, if a shitstorm could sling shit? The answer? A lot. The first blow came when the job was lost yesterday. That's a shot right to the gut. The second blow came when the motor started to sputter on the recently fixed car. That was the whistling left hook to the temple. Then when The Girl had to drop out of hanging out because she has a boyfriend , well, that was just the piledriver right uppercut that laid us out flat. No job means no income. No car means no freedom. The Girl having a boyfriend means a burdened heart. I'm noble, I always have been. I have no choice but to be happy for her, because she's happy. Even if it's not with me, even though it cuts me that it's not me, I know I haven't made a move. She's happy, and that's what matters. Why did I have to fall for her? Why does nobility hurt so much? I stumble, and I fall to one knee. Can I rise again?
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xoxo a