so i won tickets to see guster today. they’re playing tomorrow at the paradise lounge…an acoustic show, or some such shit.
but i have no idea who in the hell guster is. and about 20 minutes ago brandon called because apparently the redhead is OBSESSED with them…so she’s going instead of me…because i could give a flying charbroiled fuck.
isn’t i a nice lil pineapple?
*ahem*
ISN’T I?!?!?
he he…
in other news, it rained. all. fucking. day. and i had maybe a 2 minute conversation with the rockstar. because he’s studying for his midterms, blah blah blah. yick yick yick. he gets on my nerves. we talk when he feels like, when he calls, when he ims, when he feels like hanging up ‘gotta go, bye!’ we’re done. *growl* and i let him.
i. fucking. let. him.
i talked to sabrina today and she called me down for at least a good five minutes ‘you’re not even going to make him work?! you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself!?’
*sigh*
if i did it wouldn’t matter to him one way or another. and i don’t do it because i’m scared. scared to fucking death. terrified, even. i tell him to fuck off and he does just that. and how in the HELL am i supposed to go through life rockstarless? yeah, he’s an asshole. yeah, he has an ego. yeah, he can’t really spell. yeah, he put me through hell. but…*cries* he’s john…i just. i remember — vividly — every shitty thing he’s done to me in the last 4 months…and a lot of it still hurts so fucking much. but then…but then… 4 god damned years, yo. 4 years of loving him, laughing with him, talking to him, crying to him, touching him, kissing him…i can’t forget it all like *poof* i mean, i can try and drink it out of my system, but that doesn’t last. once the alcoholic haze wears off and i’m sober again i’m right back where i started from.
fucking alone.
so of course…OF COURSE when the rockstar says that we need to talk about things i’m setting myself up for a fall. because since it ‘has to be in person, we have to talk about things that can’t be said over the phone’ all he’s going to have to do is look at me, take. one. fucking. look. and i’m going to be lost all over again. he’ll turn those eyes of his on me and i’ll be a goner. and he’ll have all this power to break me into little achy pieces all over again.
yeah, i’m not the brightest crayon in the box.
