Full of Shit
SOMEONE hit me with the shit stick, I KNOW it, I KNOW someone did it.
Was it you? Was it? Fess up, suckshit!
I can't believe summer is half over and my brain has been hijacked by a love confessional from a man who's got a fiancee--- and I'm still dating a married dude!
... Okay, you're right, it's my apathetic ass's fault, I'll admit it. I knew what I was doing but I was so bored! I mean, sure, my conversational self said to me, "How far can you push someone without giving way?" and the answer is all the way. Man, I'm a home wrecker now.
Months of shyin' this dude off didn't seem to work, you'd figure my manly swagger would help; the way I kick my timberlands onto the oak table and crack beer cans open with my teeth, my love of the WWE or the fact that black cargo shorts and wifebeaters are in ALL summer.
I didn't go without warning him, I gave the soul a chance to get away. Told him I wasn't good for his health, tells me I don't have a mean bone in me. You're right, I don't, or a nice one either. Or any. Or his, but it sure trying to make its rounds.
I was drinking at school; I always do that. Karma told me that's not a very nice thing but who cared? We had reign of the place with his array of keys to every class room. It was dark in there, things were fuzzy before and after Sage pulled me to the linoleum floor with him, there in that corner of last year's classroom near the desk of that one dude we really hated.
My legs were yingyang'd away from the rest of me; my face was muffled into a very tight embrace, "What are we doing?"
A huffing reply, "Tell me."
"You're having a stupid crush on me?"
"You too."
My face scrunched and I wriggled around a bit, "I've never done this before."
"Me either," it felt like he was inhaling my brain.
"Look," I unstuck my bust from his, "You're gettin' married; I might as well be married. I can understand we're breakin' away from this exact same lock down we have… You, like, need to get this outta your system or something?"
He sighed, "The reason I'm resisting kissing you on the lips is because of my engagement. I'm not going to use you like that."
"You should go back to your happy little married life, it's really good for you there," I felt this cynical snarl in my nose.
"You shouldn't stay blind in a relationship."
"I'm not the kinda kid you should really be---"
"Don't push me away."
I was already standing, "Listen, I'm not stupid, obviously this was coming. How dumb you think I could be? I even thought about it; this is okay. This is release, sure. No matter what, I love my guy and you love your girl and at the end of the day we go back to loving who we're supposed to, and we're happy. Isn't that so right?"
I hated being drunk. I slithered towards him when I said it. Ha, I could feel his inability to keep complete control come right through his clothes. He dragged me in again.
"The rule," I said into his shirt again, "You tell no one."
"Okay."
"No best friend, no brother, sister, family friend. No one ever knows, ever."
"Okay."
But was that it. Truly. We planned nothing. We walked out of that building minutes later.
He told me to stop acting, stop 'playing cool' so monotonous. I told him I wasn't. I shrugged, and I meant it. It's not getting to me, it's not, it wasn't even loud in my head when it happened. I meant it, I wasn't wrecked.
I lie here in the dark, knowing I've done my favorite thing: made someone think the complete opposite way. My stomach says its hungry. Why isn't anyone listening to me? I told Jinks something was wrong in here, I confessed everything that I used to get treated for. He said he had to think about what I said. What's that supposed to mean? Why would you have to think about my clinical issues?
Whatever.
I gotta go make some paper through a little artwork and a head full of shit.
Buggie