I think I have Aspergers. :|
Esio Trot, save me from this wicked depression of the soul.
You asked how my health was before, I’d say it’s pretty good. I think I have actually gained some more muscle. Making some gains for you, Sammy. I make some gains every time I think of you. See what I did there?
Why does every anime I have ever seen have a beach scene?
I’m out of things to write about, especially with not having the most exciting thing in my life around. So, let me just turn this lol filled blog which is actually supposed to be my PERSONAL WRITING BLOG from a lol filled blog into my actual PERSONAL WRITING BLOG.
And ultimately not care that none of my followers will read this. “Words? So many.. words…” *Scroll on*.
Well, fuck the lot of you, because behind all the touching romantic things and other absolutely random shit I post on here, I am a person. A person that wants to write. And be read. What’s so wrong with that? I had like, a singular person that I know of, actually reading my word filled posts, and now he’s off to the ocean.
I miss him a lot.
So, here’s what my topic is really about. The time when people show you what great listeners they really are. What good friends people really are to you. Times when you think they’re friends, but they’re not and your memory is too bad for you to remember that regularly…
There was a guy I used to date once. A very distrustful man with the need to do the weed (rhymes are fun) and a very unattractive attitude.
Why did I date him? Like, why ever? I have a perfectly understandable explanation for it. The Monkey Bars. It’s the situation in which you swing from guy to guy, waiting for the bars to end. For someone to grab onto you and love you like you want to be loved. To accept you for all that you are and not accidentally on purpose leave you for someone else. Sadly, in these situations, there’s always another bar for you to swing onto just around the corner, after the last one starts crumbling in your hand. Monkey bar men always crumble.
This guy was one of them. Lets call him Mr. Potato. Mr. Potato was a guy I swung onto after this other guy smashed my heart into smithereens and chicken pot pie. After a few weeks of romance, Mr. Potato disappears into the darkness. He forgets to talk to me, he isn’t around, and he obviously doesn’t care. But by that point, based on what I knew of his lack of trust, I knew he would eventually run away.
He was the kind of guy that saw his own faults in a blaring light that he couldn’t deny. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, by making the failure of the relationship mine or whatever it was, he could only see how much he sucked. He couldn’t trust me to love him. So he pulled away all by himself, how sweet of him. Probably the only nice thing he ever did.
By then I was used to expecting relationships to end. I was used to closing my heart off to people when I sensed danger. When he finally came around to tell me that it was over, I was totally ready to hear it, and I totally agreed with him. We officially stopped going out.
But over time, he started talking to me again, creeping messages in here and there, attempts at being friends again. Not even in a way I liked. He would criticize me for things I enjoyed, because he loved seeing me get mad. “You’re so pathetic and cute when you’re angry,” he laughed. So I blocked him from chat.
Sadly, my memory is terrible.
Like, fucking terrible. I saw him on my blocked list, and I was like “Why is he there, again…? Ah, well.” *Unblock.*
This guy started talking to me again, and eventually “falling back in love” with me. The feelings were not mutual, as I told him this repeatedly. “I care for you, I love you, but not like that.” Yet he continued to seek me out, as though he believed I was lying. Besides, I was already EXTREMELY ENTIRELY AND EXCESSIVELY in love with my fudgemuffin by then. So I told my fudgemuffin, and my fudgemuffin said, remove him.
In fact, my fudgemuffin made me remove him, and cackled in a wonderfully evil way once the deed was done. I much prefer that to dawdling, really. A while later, my sweet little angelcake watchful protector fudgemuffin went off to the ocean, like the lovely giant squid that he is. (I love squids).
And, I added Mr. Potato back, when he sent me a friend request. Because my memory sucks.
I’m sorry, fudgemuffin.
We didn’t talk at first, but somehow, that guy didn’t seem to have gotten the idea that I really, genuinely and absolutely wasn’t interested in him as more than a friend. I am all about giving people second chances, but by that point, I wasn’t even feeling so friendly anymore. He kept saying, “I love you” and greeting me with “Hey, beautiful” and similar what the fuck is wrong with you things.
But apparently, it smashed into his head one day that I REALLY didn’t want him. Like, genuinely. And he went from, “I love you” and “I missed you” talk to the following.
Me: I can’t be with you.
Mr. Potato: I know.
Me: Like, as your woman. Ever.
Mr. Potato: Right. Good luck with your life. I honestly should’ve fucked off so long ago.
Mr. Potato: Bye.
And I thought this was over, that all the crap was REALLY done. But 3 minutes later…
Mr. Potato: Fuck you, you stupid fucking bitch. Honestly, fuck you. I hope you don’t have anybody. Ever. I hope your cat dies. Fuck your cat litter. Fuck you. You want me to fucking hate you. Why the fuck would you keep me around? You’re fucking stupid. I want you to know how fucking stupid you are. How much do you want me to hate you? Tell me, 1-10, give me a fucking number, you stupid bitch. You’re so fucking funny. Give me a number.
Followed by hadouken, shoryuken and tatsumaki senpakyakku.
After he was done with all that stuff he did finally leave. I’m going to remember this one. Because it’s in a damn blog post now, and there’s a giant paragraph of name calling involved. And the clear lesson that my fudgemuffin was actually right. I never doubted him, but written proof just adds another chapter to fill the void of boredom that comes with the ocean. This is exactly why I write about my feelings in blogs, and journals and log files. This is why I have an online diary, a dream diary and a million other things.
To remind me that my past sucks. To remember that monkey bars suck. To appreciate just how god damned awesome my fudgemuffin is. Plus, I think real friends also do this thing, where they share awesome stuff with you regularly.
Facts of life, essentially. Male pseudo-menstruation or browsing fact filled web pages with you for hours. Totally random shit that doesn’t involve ignoring obvious truths. So, I hereby declare that I will return to this damned post if I start feeling forgetful again.
I am bound to make mistakes. I am curious, and incredibly careless with my explorations of pointless things when I forget really important details. (For example, that guy sucks). I’ve figured it out now, though. A lot better than before. I’m already horrible at reading situations, but now I know what I want to avoid even trying to read. Because I already know who my dreams and ambitions are, and he is already so close. I am so close to having him.
I don’t want to screw it up. Not now, not ever. Because I love him more than anything or anyone in this universe, and I don’t have any doubts about that. I’ll be more careful in the future.
However, I still don’t know why he couldn’t just get over his damn “feelings” and I dunno, just be happy as a friend? That’s what I would do in his place, and have done in the distant past. When you supposedly love someone, how do you lash out at them like that, just because they won’t return your feelings? What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with people? What the heck?
- ♥ Wally
> literature blog
> most popular post is a random pic post of a royal guard on his face.
WHY DOES HE SMELL SO FUCKING AMAZING??