A Hard Day

So this morning I'd made my mind up to move on. To stop worrying about Punk. Let bygones be bygones. Rather than throwing more good after bad, to let him wander away. I sorta resolved not to tell him this, to rather just smile and see what he'd say. 


After a month of up down left right and him saying all kinds of things to me, I realised that I'm not up for it. I can't commit. That I need more. Giving him my heart would be the metaphorical equivalent of pulling it out of my chest and putting it in a blender. 


So I went on my date with the guy I THOUGHT was an Indie doucher. Turns out, he LOOKS like an Indie doucher but actually isn't. An Indie I mean. He's just a douche. I listened and smiled ambivalently for two hours. Smiling politely. Thinking "Oh God say something interesting or shut the fuck up". We had absolutely nothing in common. 


I mentioned a movie I'd watched lately (Act of Valor) explained the actors were Navy SEALs. He looked at me with a look of "Oh suuuure". I made a Pulp Fiction joke, he looked at me quizzically and told me he doesn't like dudes (clarification: see the scene with Vincent and Jules discussing foot massages). So I made a Game of Thrones joke (given that he described himself as a "geek" I figured somewhere I had to get close, right?) he asked me who "Jeffrey" (ugh... Joffrey) was.


At that point I simply took a deep breath, realising that he didn't think I was interesting or amusing and asked him what he did like. I got the answer of "sport". Cool, I get it. Dudes like sport. I asked a few polite questions to enquire. I got very little back. I guess perhaps my jokes before that put him off? I don't know. He texted me tonight, he wants to see me again. I ignored the message for now - bigger fish to fry.


So, my very good friend has a drug problem, and is homeless. His folks chucked him out half way through his rehab program (awesome job guys). So I picked him up, bought him tea, gave him fifty bucks and took him to his friends place. Halfway through I was pretty emotionally drained. It was a tough chat. Never fun seeing your friend fucked up.


While he was eating and I was sipping on my decaf, in walks my least favourite fuckwit. So on my 23rd birthday, THIS doucher chucked a hissy, screamed "WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I LOVE YOU" at me. I replied with "I can, I was just hoping it would go away". He decided we couldn't be friends, making shit fucking weird for all our mutual friends. He deleted me on Facebook, hung around my work, texted my friends and generally was a huge pain in the ass. Gossipy little cunt. Made for my very private chats with my friend with real issues to be actually really uncomfortable - more uncomfortable than your friend being a junkie. As if that's not hard enough.


While I was dealing with that breed of stupid, Punk texted me saying he's worked it out, and even though he's crazy about me, he feels like we won't work out. *bangs head against keyboard* Perfect. I fucking quit anyways.


And last but not least, and probably the saddest, I seem to have misplaced a really good friend. We were chatting heaps, and now he's not answered my emails or checked in online in a couple of days. He's a great guy, and I feel like somehow this might be my fault. He hasn't told me what the issue is, and I'd have thought he would. I'm more worried than anything else, and I just miss chatting to him. I don't even know if he's still reading my blog. Guess all I can do is hope. 


Some days are harder than others, but today life high fived me. In the face. With a brick. Hope one of you guys can say something to make me feel a little less like I suck at everything.