I’m a Terrible Person…

I’m not to be trusted

I  told all of her secrets to all the guys in town

They all laughed and slapped me five

Luckily she doesn’t have dirt on me

‘Cause I’m the cleanest guy

I’m afraid.

Robert Schwartzman sung it best. Those are lyrics from Rooney’s song I’m a Terrible Person, and that’s exactly how I feel.

So the girl from my job, I ended up liking her.  But I ruined it.  Officially.  I was talking to one of my managers, and I didn’t use any names, but I guess people put two and two together.

It was all in jest folks.   At least that’s my story.

So this girl is good-looking, but she could stand some sit-ups and less frappicinos.  I just happened to mention that to my boss.  It somehow got back to her.  Now she’s pissed.  I apologized but she’s not having it, well I assume she’s not because she hasn’t texted me back at all.

I’m really sorry though, because I really liked her.

Don’t Be Silly

Have you ever been in LOVE?  I mean really in love like you would do anything for that person, and it doesn’t matter where they are, or even if they may not love you anymore, they may have even forgotten who you are.  Still you don’t care.  You LOVE them.

Maybe I’m stupid.

She probably doesn’t remember, or even if she does it may mean nothing to her.  We were only kids.

But, she was my First.  My first best friend, the first person I ever stood up for, the first person I thought of before myself, my first dance, my first date, my first kiss.  The first person I ever told “I love you.”  She isn’t my FIRST FIRST.  We never did that.  The last time I saw her she was 13, I was 14.  I had known her since I was what…3?

I promised her we’d always keep in touch.  My mother made that hard, in fact its my mother’s fault I had to leave her in the first place.  Mom never liked her or her mother much.  Still I should have kept my promise.

I think about finding her all the time.  All the time.  Its not something I do really, worry about someone so out of reach.  I usually get what I want easily.  I’m not being narcissistic, I just know what I have to work with.  She never made me feel like it was easy.  She wasn’t just another girl who liked me.  She was smart, pretty, adventurous.

That was it, the adventure.  She was my friend first, better than any of the guys I know now.  It wasn’t like here’s this GIRL I hang out with, it was like here’s my best friend, a PERSON who knows me inside and out, and makes everything into this adventure, and everything new.

So I loved her.  So I still do.  I guess I’m silly.

Don’t Talk to Boys

I’m still drunk.  Its 10am.  I’m on break, only no one knows I’m drunk.  Well, actually I’m more like hungover with a splash of buzzed.

I am an asshole.  A calm, cool, calculating asshole.

I slept with this girl I work with.  Bad Idea.  I think she thinks this means something to me.  It doesn’t.

I feel like I’m gonna puke.  I need to sleep, and another cold shower.

She was all caressing me last night, I was drunk as fuck.  I let her kiss me, at first it was an experiment.  To see how it felt, and if I could like it.  When you’re drunk you like everything, and everything feels good.

We ended up at her place, she walked me back home this morning.  Fuck, she loves me.  Actually, her words were “I really care about you.”  Everyone at work is gonna know.  I can feel it.

Still I did this, I knew it was gonna happen.  I’ve been toying with her for a while.  I set up last night, and my plan was too perfect, I got too drunk, and I slept with her, the plan was just to flirt, dance, play around a bit.  Agh I fucked up, I’m too good for my own good.

Funny thing is, I planned everything except the sex.   I had a date last night, not with her.  Before the date I texted a bunch of people from work, suggested we go out.  Only the girl from work responded, I knew everyone else was busy.  I went on the date.  I invited my date, and her friends to come too.  Then I called Blake and Cullen.  We all go out.  My date, goes off dances with other people, including girls.  We laugh.  I slowly, and seemingly innocently flirt with the girl from work.  I get drunker.  Then the taxis home got mixed up, and we (me and the girl from work) “ended” up in the same one.  Then we talked, she got sad, I “consoled” her.  Then she was in my lap.

Don’t talk to boys ladies…we’ll break your hearts.  I need a vicodin.