Don’t let Perfect Be the Enemy of Good
He took up a lot of space in my life, and without him, things are saggy. The support beams are rotted, and I have to go around and replace some things. Reach out to all the friends that I’ve been ignoring to make sure that I’m directing my attention to him (he’d get pissy if I looked way for too long, even though he was just bitching about work and other people who I did not know anyway), go to the gym finally maybe or at least do the physical activity that he never wanted to do the progressively fatter fuck that he is, eat my own food which is far superior to the repetitive pizza place that he lives off of, revamp my professional life so that I can get fucked well and on a regular basis by men who will have a drink ready for me when I arrive and know when to use lube.
Repetition is part of who I am, and everything I do. I guess I intrinsically know that no one is going to listen to me the first time, or the second time, but after all is said and done – no one can tell me I didn’t tell them so.
Last night when we were fucking, the boy wouldn’t look at me. I remember when my ex started to do that. I’m not even mad. I feel like a kid who broke a cheap toy, not even my favorite one. I just don’t want to go through the hassle of opening up Tinder again.
Why do I desperately want to show myself as useful to people that don’t give a damn about me, and if I’m hard pressed to say it (ok, that was definitely not a hard press) I don’t give a damn about either?
There are types of tears that one can’t fight. The kind that come out from under the top eyelid. There is a tear duct up almost at the inner corner of the eyebrow. There is nothing I can do about that one. However, I have had eye infections there before, and so it’s good to clean it out once in a while. That’s what I have told myself for my entire life. I don’t care if anyone thinks this is stupid, it’s your fault for clicking on this link.