OK, get me a razor blade. I'm listening to Barbra Streisand's "People." I might as well tie a noose around my neck and kick a chair out from under my legs. Funny how music can squeeze the heart till it breaks.
The strangest thing about being in love with an unattainable guy is how the notion of sex with anyone else becomes unappealing. Case in point: A cute 27-year-old Nicaraguan -- named Alpha -- left a message on my cell phone last night asking if I wanted to "hang out" with him Saturday. Although we've never actually met, I've seen the guy. Trust me: He's A1 material. "Hang out," of course, is code for "sex."
Sadly, I have no interest in him, simply because I can't get my mind off of this other guy. It might be different if Alpha and I had already dated and liked each other. For now, though, I'd rather jack off than have random sex.
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So, I'm curious: How long will it take before other guys interest me? You know, what with the love thing. Which I still absofuckinlutely hate, by the way. I mean, it vaporizes your cool in an insta-second. You're bitchy, you're jealous, you're mopey. It's disgusting. I freakin hate myself right now. I'd chop off my dick if I wasn't so attached to it.
OK, I wrote this (well actually it's parts of two posts) in 2006 on Livejournal. It took me until late 2008 to finally get back to normal. Tick-tock. Goodbye, life.
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