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.