two hundred-seventy eighth.

dear (k)you,

i'm watching the world cup right now, trying to distract myself from the asshole that is the douchebag.

i know i've said things like these before, in an attempt to push OAO to humor me. but i think i've finally reached the point where i can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. i've tried. really. and i think i've been getting code "he's-just-not-that-into-you" fora while now, and i think i should finally acknowledge it. i mean, it's not like he didn't try to humor me. he did. he was even nice enough to talk to me for a while. but this is just too much. now he couldn't even spare the time to answer my question. and it hurts.

it hurts when you put yourself out there and you get clobbered. 

and the sad part is, i really wanted it to be him. he's one of the few which really caught my attention. which made me want to try harder and prove to all that he is not what they think. but he's exactly what they say he is. bastard.

i guess i really have that attraction to the danny zucko complex. and i shouldn't be complaining. because this is a two-way street. i can't keep fantasizing and wishing for him to reciprocate. 

its' so painful really.

and i think this time, it's for real. no more of the douchebag. no more.

bye m. for real this time.

ps: bosnia herzegovina is winning, and they're cuter than the iranians.  

two hundred-seventy seventh.

dear (k)you,

i am a little conflicted right now about the douchebag. i really am. he's got a lot going on in his life, and i don't think i'm even welcome. i mean, he can't even spare me some time. but he goes on gallivanting on a holiday, or playing basketball in his old college. i mean what the hell really?

i know i shouldn't care. because that's exactly what makes this whole thing "complicated". this is exactly the kind of behavior that would hinder me from actually getting somewhere with him. if in fact there is even a slight remote chance of it happening.

he is such a girl. i swear. such a motherfucking girl. 

and i am a motherfucking coward-psychopath.

please come back? life was so much more peaceful when i was just hoping for you. i think i could handle you. the douchebag is just.

this is the little boy all over again. the cycle continues.

two hundred-seventy sixth.

dear (k)you,

this is a little overdue, but well whatever. i'm in that kind of mood. please know that i am not really talking to you. i would be (for the most part) be talking to the douchebag and to the rest of the fucking male population who are such rude assholes.

okay.

so. here goes. i would like to pick a bone with the phrase "talk to you later" or "get back to you" or "I'LL TEXT YOU LATER" or whatever else mutation there is for the goddamn phrase!

i mean really? really? you think you'd all be doing us a favor if you tell us that and not follow through? you think it's some dude code for "i'm-a-nice-person-so-i-won't-tell-you-straight-that-i-have-no-plans-of-getting-back-to-you-EVER"? NO. it's actually code for "i-am-a-rude-asshole-with-no-balls".

you could just tell us bye. or even, not reply entirely. sure you're still a jerk if you do that, but at least you leave us a decent amount of pride to hold on to. at least we wouldn't be waiting for DAYS and checking the goddamn phone every MINUTE even though it hasn't made a single sound or texting or calling ourselves just to check that the phone lines are okay.

but if you go and say something like that, and not follow through. WOW. JUST WOW. you have now unlocked a new level of being an ASS. i guess manners are not taught in jerk university. not surprising though, NO ONE would pass that class.

plus, i'd prolly even have respect for you if you told me straight up "okay. bye".

too bad. now i have no respect for you. and i have no respect for me. which makes me hate you even more. i though i'd be less mad when i let this all out. 

whoops. guess not.

FUCK YOU.

two hundred-seventy fifth.

dear (k)you,

wow. 

i just can't. no words could express what i want to say right now, so bear with it.

remember all i said about the douchebag about he's such a surprise? 

well i FUCKING TAKE IT ALL BACK.

HE IS A DOUCHEBAG FOREVER. ACTUALLY, HE'S AN EVEN BIGGER DOUCHEBAG FROM BEFORE! BECAUSE HE KNOWINGLY HELD MY HEART AND CLOBBERED IT UNTIL IT CAN'T EVEN BE DIFFERENTIATED WITH MY PRIDE, AND SMEARED IT ALL OVER THE FLOOR IN THE WORDS: I'M THE MAN BITCH.

at least if he were the douchebag i thought he was, he would have just ignored me completely. still a blow, but come on, i could probably recover from that with my heart and most of my salvaged pride.

but now, i don't even have either. you can't even differentiate one from the other.

it's just. wow.

universe - 10 ; me - 0

 

two hundred-seventy fourth.

dear (k)you,

just when i think i've hit rock bottom, universe decides to say "oh, no that's not rock bottom, this is." BAM!

i mean really? really? how many times do i have to try and put myself out there and get clobbered before i either give up or catch a break?

because i don't want to give up. really. i don't. but i don't wanna keep doing this. it's hard.

it's sad.

i know i should just get up and move on from all this. not expect too much from that douchebag. but the thing is, i want to. i want him to surprise me one more time and be all like, no, i'm not what you think. 

but i guess not. he's exactly what i think.

well played douchebag. well played.

two hundred-seventy third.

dear (k)you,

universe - 4 : me - 0

this is not a fun game.

two hundred-seventy second.

dear (k)you,

i am not going to make this lengthy. nothing would change anyway.

universe-2 : me-0 

i would think nothing could make me feel lousier, but i'm going to preempt this and say that things WILL get lousier.

to the douchebag, my friend said to take you by surprise. i don't think anything i've done has taken you by surprise as of yet, but... who said i was going to give up?

pride's on the floor anyway, what's left to save?

ps: on the other hand, i wish the douchebag would stop surprising me. he needs to stop.