Come One, Come All

Step right up, ladies and gentleman! Only one dollar for a quick glimpse of the world's most stupid woman!! Check it out, it's amazing!!!

Okay, so yeah - that woman is me. Can you believe that last night (or early this morning, rather), I heard those infamous words: "It's not you, it's me. I have heard several people say that, so it must be me. There's nothing wrong with you at all." YAWN.... BULLSHIT. It isn't enough to say that the problem is you if you are never going to do anything to change yourself... damn, I feel some deja vu... didn't I write about this before... like seventeen million times? Backtrack. This morning my friend was telling me about his night out, and he got to this part where he met this attractive woman who "seemed sensible" (she didn't split verbs, he said), and so they exchanged numbers and agreed to meet for lunch today. Why don't men understand that it is NEVER okay to talk about a new woman with a woman that you used to have sleep with - even if you never considered that woman to be anything more than "just a friend." "So what?" you ask. I'll tell you what... that's how he and I got to be friends. I recognize the game being layed down. And now almost a year later, I realize that that's all it was. Game. Plain and simple. I fell for some game. For a split second (okay, for almost a year) I allowed myself to believe that this person actually liked me and that our friendship was mixed up in something a little more interesting and a lot more important. Yeah, right. So after thinking about that for a little while, I realized something - it's time to pull up my stakes and roll into the next town (figured I'd keep up the carnival references for all yall Southerners). I am so over being the part-time friend. The good time girl. The "I am so bored, so let's hang out" friend. Am I mad at him? No, I created this scenario. I allowed myself to be placed into that box, and more importantly, I have made no moves to get out of it. But enough is enough. I have friends. Not very many and not in a lot of places, but I have friends. Friends who care about my feelings and who actually realize when they've hurt them. Friends who want me to be happy and who work hard at making that a reality. I don't need any more "best friends in my head" (Wendy Williams-ism). I am 29 years old and I am tired of this bullshit. No more of this we argue today and then don't speak for a few days hoping that it will blow over and you won't have to discuss it anymore. No more of this I call you when I don't have anything better to do with my day. And definitely no more of this beautiful, intelligent woman who cares more about you than you do about her. Do I sound like I am trying to convince myself? I am. But I'm tired of crying over a man who doesn't give a damn about me. And I realied that while I was trying to deny it and doing everything I cold to avoid it, I kinda loved him. Not "I am so in love with you, let's get married and someday" kind of love, but I really do think that I loved him. Friends? Right. The only tears I have ever cried over my true friends are the ones that we've cried together. This man doesn't need me, and he realizes that. So why I am so late on the pick up? He has moved up to the 2007 model, and even though all the signs were there, I never saw it coming. So maybe over lunch, the two of you can talk about all kinds of things without the trouble of interpreting split verbs. Maybe she'll find you attractive and funny and the two of you will talk for hours in her car after the meal is over. And maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky she'll be so taken with you that she'll ignore the voice of her conscience that is screaming, "Are you crazy?" and she'll have sex with you in a few days. At any rate, enjoy your new life, old friend. I can't be your good time girl anymore.