Current mood:

calm

I wish I could sing no regrets, and no emotional debts...
last night kayce and i broke up. again. this time for good.

i goaded her into doing it, because i am a chickenshit, and lost my nerve. but after friday i knew i was going to have to break up with her.

Q: what kind of a fucking cunt goes to san francisco the day her supposed future mother-in-law dies, rather than even pretend to care about her supposed future husband?

A: a selfish one.

so saturday when we talked i picked a fight, and was going to break up with her. but i lost my nerve. two and a half years is a long time to let go of.

my nerve still hadn't returned by sunday, so when i spoke to her i put words that she refused to speak into her mouth until we were no more.

if i sound bitter, it's because i am. i am not bitter or broken up about the break up, but my heart is broken. it was already broken last month after the fucking left field bullshit she pulled on me, and what little bit was left was burned to ash when she basically told me that the most grievous day of my life thus far was less important to her than looking at jellyfishes in a city she hates.

i am bitter because there is no one to give me a hug. she couldn't even muster the human empathy to do that.



so anyways, she is bringing my shit back to me tonight, and then i am going with jenna to her house in oakland or berkeley or somewhere in that general vicinity for a few days.

for now, though, i am going to go get stoned and bathe and do laundry and perhaps try to write.


funny, she tells me i will never amount to anything. all she did was make the story better. no one would want to read a story about a guy who has a fully functional support system. no important truths could be gotten to if the nurse has already come and made everything better.
the story will commence just as soon as i can reread HWOSG.


you know what my biggest regret is? all the beautiful art i have shared with her that she will never be able to appreciate. she has unfairly stolen from my future ex girlfriends songs and books and movies and sentiments that rightfully belong to them.


alright. i am not high, and it is 4:20.

peeze out, bitches