Have you ever slept with the enemy? I have; I often have strange bedfellows that keep the mood lively, and when the deed is done, I wake up with an assault rifle shoved to my temple. How did I manage not to die after all this time, you ask? I train with banshees. Yes, live banshees flown in from the South Pacific. Not sure how a banshee would help me, but it hasn’t hurt me. Eye of the tiger, mon amie…eye of the tiger.
The last time I checked in Guyworld, things were not as rosy as they should be. There are problems concerning the competition team, or so I hear. There are problems concerning the performance team, or so I’ve witnessed. There are problems with broken hearts, or so I’ve endured. There are problems with restraining orders…what the hell? That last one didn’t fit, but to be honest, the first few didn’t either. Hooray for circular logic. Poodles!
After throwing yet another successful social dance party, I had to travel to The Shore with my comrades to perform for the masses that paid to watch me move. Did they pay to watch me move? Yes, didn’t you read the last sentence, assclown? I sat on stage with the sleaziest look I could muster; I think my face said “I’m going to get you pregnant.” If my look went anywhere near that vicinity, I’d be happy, but the crowd reports point to affirmative. I only had a double hammerlock and a dip, yet I was the most captivating performer up there. Woo-hah! I chatted with my comrades in arms, danced a few songs, and enjoyed myself. The blue cocktail didn’t hurt, either; the bartender remembered me because of my funky sleeves. She asked why they were conspicuously absent tonight, and I stated “bling surgery.” For Saturday’s party, I will debut rhinestones on my sleeves for the first time. I’ll also bring Rodrigo Guzman to the stage as my replacement for Walter Jones. I’m so proud of myself that I upgraded. I couldn’t stop telling everyone that I freaking succeeded, yet again. This has been a rough road, and a much needed boost, and it goes back to Friday.
Fuck me sideways, got served the order at the party. Of all the places in the world, with all of the tactful ways to deliver it, Friday? I was hurt. Sad. Embarrassed. Pained. Pissed. Stressed. More or less, I was out of it, which is bad considering the party needed me to be stronger. A network of supportive friends did their job by keeping me relaxed enough to focus, gather myself, and continue the domination. I felt sorry for the girl delivering it; I’d never want to be stuck in that situation. Actually, I could do it if I was impartial to the matter, but eh, it could’ve been worse. If Jordan was the one giving me the missive, I’d probably deliver Codebreakers to the house. So, what is a guy to do? In all the cases I’ve encountered, I’ve never had to go against someone I had this much feeling for. I’ve broken my fair share of wills, but never a former student. Personally, I’d rather sit this one out, because there’s going to be stress on both ends, and while I can deal with it, I’m not sure she can. Dating me and putting up with my wild antics is one thing, but facing me on the other end of the field is different. The last time I had to seriously face someone close to me was Jared, but that was relatively minor in comparison. This, on the other hand, is the battle for everything. My future is on the line, my name hangs in the balance. I’m scared to think what awaits me next week as I enter the halls. I did not deserve this. I also didn’t deserve what happened in high school, so I can’t necessarily bitch here. I’m still leaning against going, because relatively speaking, this is not going to be a pleasant experience.
However, the girl is a pleasant surprise. I’m wondering why we’re working as well as we are, but I’m smart enough not to question things. Didn’t expect to get back on the dating horse in these conditions, but something fell in my lap, and I enjoy pleasant surprises. Taking her out tomorrow, and she’s already said she’s going to be my date for the Anniversary. I had better relax that night and have the time of my life, because one week before my birthday hits, I’ll have a choice to make. Walk away from a situation and jeopardize my freedom, or lose my humanity as I defend myself against my first love. Never figured that she’d give me hell before she gave me sleeves she promised to make for Christmas. Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Selena Gomez and The Scene “Naturally”