Insight

I'm willing to bet you weren't always like this. I want to know if your game is an art, a practice. Does this happen a lot? At the time, I knew it wasn't. You were the most sincere, the sweetest, the most thoughtful, and the best looking. How quickly the promises we make to strangers fade, like throwing a fistful of water at glass in June. I was honest because I'm always honest. I never seem to learn any of the lesson's that I preach about. I am tried and true and I'm always willing. I walk in to every situation with an open mind. If I weren't such a firm believer in a clean slate, I would have crumbled long ago. I've never considered myself crippled. Maybe I should. Maybe I should be weary and paranoid. Maybe I shouldn't be so naive.

"That's it. Like ripping off a band-aid. But always with a smile. Now, the romantic side of me is thinking that he'll show up tomorrow at that same bar he knows I'll be at on Monday night because I called it off and he wants a second try. The realistic part of me knows that he's moved on to someone else." Well, damn my realistic side. Fail.

You are the worst kind of person. I've never known so much drama in my entire life. You were perfectly suited to me. Looking back on it, I kick myself. I wanted nothing more than to sit with you for hours and listen to you talk, tell me about your life, share all of your stories. As it turns out, you are every other male I've ever been involved with. Short sighted, unfamiliar with the term and concept of, "no." I've told you more than once and I don't feel the need to repeat myself any further, I'm not what you're looking for and you couldn't be any less of a person in my opinion. That's it, let it go. If you send that shot to me again, I'll send it back with a message. An insistance that you drink it at unknown speed and then drive home sans seatbelt. Go to Hell.

Still, in all of the ridiculous drama you put my friends and I through that night, you never once insulted me. "She's a sweet girl, I know she's a sweet girl. It's why I fell for her!" You and I have very different definitions of that phrase. I pity the next bright eye'd country girl you go home with.