Well my "Friday" night was just shot to hell.
I've been burning the candle at both ends for far too long the past few weeks, and it has finally caught up with me.
I dunno if any of you people reading have played "The Sims", a very addictive computer game good for robbing human beings of many hours of real life by PLAYING being another person. (Though most people I know actually create themselves, but far sluttier.)
Much like the little characters in The Sims will do while walking around, I literally fell asleep on myself tonight. I fell asleep on myself sitting on my back patio for an hour, and then finally woke up enough to groggily drag myself to my bed where I think I died for roughly, Oh, 5 and a half hours.
Dang.
With split days off, you tend to appreciate the 'night before the day off' far more than usual, because it's tacked on to that added 24 hours of not attending work. I mean, come on, me! (shut up, before you even start...) I've got designated "sleep" hours, how come they've got to intrude on my designated "all hepped up on goofballs" hours?
Bah.
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Oh, on a completely unrelated topic, I've realized that I have bigger cojones than my ex-boyfriend, when it comes to finishing things off...
I'm very tempted to send him an email asking him to please reattach his balls and reinsert his spine, so that he can bring it upon himself to finally deliver my delerium CD back to me.
It's not really the fact that he has the cd. Sure it's an import, Sure it's a rare CD. Sure, it was a birthday present from two of my very close friends. That being said, it's just material property, and I can always buy another one.
What kills me on this whole situation, is that he totally used me for his own ends, and led me on. He lied to me. He tread on my generosity as a person, in order to get what he wanted. Or at least it feels that way to me... So barring those facts, the only things I am really passionate about is my music, my writing, and my design.
So why on God's green earth, would I allow him to take something that belongs to me, and that I'm passionate about, and call it his own? Does this make any sense, or am I just totally out of my gourd?
Yes, I realize this is petty. I realize that if I sent him that email, that it's hurtful, and spiteful, and nasty and bad-intentioned, and brings me down to his level. I also know Karma is a bitch, so I wouldn't send it in the first place. But he hurt me. So bad. It's almost painful to resist striking him back where it hurts him. Like a rattler.
I know I'm dragging it on, and I'm lingering in this negativity, but why do I always have to be the nice one, and the mature one, and the one that has the balls to call it quits because he would quite happily let it turn drag on for another month of loneliness, just because he could, and because he couldn't sum up the courage to break it off earlier? It's a coward's way out of a relationship.
And why do I have to be the one that has to keep my chin up despite blow after blow to my self-esteem where I'm made to feel like an unvalued human being, and an unwanted person? And needing to keep the water rolling off this duckie's back? I already know the answer, "Because no one else will do it for you, Linds." I know this. I'm just tired.
I'm not made of stone. Just cement. It was one of those cheap mixes, you can buy at Walmart, and it's chipping away rather quickly.
I just... Well, I wish I wasn't so angry. I wish I knew how to isolate that one part of me, and just toss it in the garbage. Is it the price you pay when you're an emotional female? Or is it just the price you pay when you're a neurotic freak? Where does the line exist between those two things, or is it all gray instead of black and white? Am I crazy, or am I just really hurt and don't know how to get over it?
I'm tired of dating "boys" that refuse to be held accountable for their own actions. A nice vehicle, a good job, and a decent sense of humour does not a "Man" make. Real men live up to their word. And I'm not lowering that standard, either. I don't feel I should have to.
And for once, I wish the ones that think they are behaving in an adult manner whilst sabotaging/undermining others feelings and deeds only to further themselves and make themselves feel better, would feel the jagged, icy shaft of karma sticking it up their pooters.
Hard. Repeatedly. With no lube.
Perhaps smeared with Cayenne Pepper paste. Yeah. That's it.
Actually, I'm tired of dating at all.
And on that note, I'm going back to sleep.
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