Yesterday I received an email from a Concerned Citizen regarding my latest post:
“some guys are worth waiting for EXCEPT the ones who disrespected you and will never change because they feel entitled and are users.“
Now here’s the thing – Concerned Citizen is a friend of Six-Feet-of-Shoulders…I wasn’t even referring to Six-Feet-of-Shoulders when I was writing that post, but it got my crazy train fired up – was SIX-FEET-OF-SHOULDERS TALKING SHIT ABOUT ME?!? Did he “use” me like a toilet seat cover?
Suddenly I am all let’s meet after school Mr. Six Feet of Nothing – you bring your crew and I’ll bring mine (which would consist of me and my cat and his pink mouse).
Showdown on!… possible dance off?…totally…knife fight? – Why the fuck not. I start humming When you’re a Jet, You’re a Jet all the way …the second you go West Side Story you are legally required to do a little “Somewhere“…Sondheim and Bernstein knew how to throw down. I am half way through the first chorus when I feel West Side Story guilt – we didn’t have to cross the boundaries of culture and race – Six-Feet-of-Shoulders lives within walking distance to my house – the worse thing that could happen is he’d get a jay walking ticket. (LA is serious about that shit.)…hmmm…okay…so clearly fisticuffs in the high school parking lot is out of the question.
How bout I three-way call his ass?…go a little Sweet Valley High on him!
…although the only way that works would be if he had a crush on someone and said something stupid on the phone while his crush was secretly listening…was that how it worked? I forget. Fuck. I suck at retribution – retro or otherwise…
…but seriously dude – wasn’t it enough to disappear on me and give me a mean case of the reds…but now you gotta brag to your friends how you made origami dog shit out of my heart?
Was my innocent naive love just a lotioned up, starving, abducted girl stuck in a well while you danced around it with your dick tucked between your legs like the dude from Silence of the Lambs when he is making the dress of flesh?
Concerned Citizen could have just been talking in general. Like how people do when talking weather or white toast or The Price Is Right…it’s like using an “old saying”, it wasn’t specific to anything – more of a life lesson sort of thing and had nothing to do with anyone directly.
Maybe I just made a whole lot of nothing about something or something out of nothing – maybe Six-Feet-of-Shoulders doesn’t ever think of me, …wait…
isn’t that worse?
No, none of it matters if he wants to say I was a fool for loving him – for trusting him – for believing in him – let him. If he wants to keep going on pretending I was nothing – do it . I have no regrets. I played it clean and classy and always kept the truth. That’s when I put on my sunglasses and take a bath and move onto more important matters like adults afflicted with Hello Kitty fever – creepy or genius?