Hubris

I don’t know if you’ll get this. If I list all the reasons I like this last boy, will you misread it? Will you think that he’s vitally vitally important to me, and worry about telling em things, and think that in the grand scheme of things that he really matters? Because he doesn’t. How do I drill that into your fucking head? How do I explain what’s really important? And how do I make you see that hte black clouds haven’t gone away, and that they won’t ever go away really properly? Because you don’t get it, and if you’ve ever felt like I have, then you too are pretending like it won’t ever happen again; like you’re CURED, and it doesn’t come back. Guess what? It does. But that wasn’t my point. My point was glee, I guess, inspired by a conversation with Jezza tonight about another boy in flannel pajamas. Now you may or may not know that now I really don’t respect this boy anymore, on account of him behaving more than a little immaturely lately (oh shut up, this is about him, not me) but the point was that it’s still a really cute, endearing memory that he put on flannel pjs after shagging me. So can we please move on to the next boy (who is like, umm 3 boys after the flannel boy in terms of being the object of my affection? smething like that anyways)? Thank you.

Reasons why I have a crush on the latest boy:

You still don’t fucking get it though, do you? Because I’ve had so much time to think about this, to figure it all out in my mind, to the point where everything becomes predictable, where I know what people are going to say before they say it, and where it’s almost like there’s no point in having conversations anymore. Why don’t you suprise me? Go on. I bet you can’t. See, that’s your problem maybe, your defeatist attitude. And I’m sorry if you think that I’m being unnecessarily harsh, so if it helps, maybe I’m not talking to YOU at all, I’m talking to someone else. How dare you think that you’re the centre of my universe at all, after all?