"Girls all say I'm a little fucked"

~

  I got advice from a friend today, and this is what they said about their relationship, "I don't mind being hit on, or people hitting on him. It's natural. It turns me on to watch people hit on him because he's coming to bed with me" Which was a totally new way of thinking to me because I live back in this caveman timeperiod where you pull the girls hair and drag her back to your cave jealous as fuck and then beat the hell out of the dude with a club...Or punch his car window out, you know or something.

But that wasn't where the new lesson stopped. This friend told me, "I love being a flirt cause I get worked up and then bring it to bed with the man I love," And I was like, "Man I need to do all that." But you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Imagine being alone with her and time seems to stop, there is no other life but you and her.
Everyone else is just extras on a movieset.
You're the big stars paid to ignore them.
Imagine being a boy full of way too many nerves.
Imagine stopping a first date walk in the park for your date to take a few pills so his hands stop shaking.
Meanwhile mere inches away she looks like she'd rather be back in Los Angeles than trying to handle this mess she calls a "love interest".
She doesn't even know where to begin.
(But then no one should ever have to know how to.)
She just knows this is where it should end.
Imagine yourself having just fucked it all up.
Just another case where Pete Wentz ruins Pete from Fall Out Boy's chance at ever having a lasting relationship.
Or is it the other way around?
Er, just imagine yourself glad you're not me.
It's like I had woke up a part of whatever daytime soap opera Joe had on the tv.
Backcramps ahead of time for badnight on the couch I was about to have.
Note: She doesn't hesitate to throw money out to stay in hotels she's too good for with the boy she's too good for.
A "maybe I should go" with the maybe added for courtesy only.
Stepping out the hallway suddenly looked a lot darker than it had when I went down it the first time.
And just like the ride home is longer than the ride to, the walk to the elevator is a lot longer than the walk from it to the hotel room.
Outside in fights with dudes trying to take her away my stomach reacts first and then my fist- never the other way around.
Cult of impersonality.
Inside my head I'm a lost cause. Inside hers I'm a cause lost.
Worse case scenerio: "I'll give you another shot," she gets my hopes up, only to bring them down in the same breath, "If I can hold the gun,"
And it's days like this where your face is pressed against the wall just to know it hasn't caved in yet.
Your face, not the wall.
All those self-inflicted punches.
Note: There's no better feeling than her hand on your arm stopping you from leaving.
Like how sometimes I just IM away messages to see if I'm still added to her buddylist.
Pinch my arm cause I'm for real.
The words you wanna hear are all whispered against someone elses ear.
When it's all (un)said and (not) done, the would haves will never beat the could haves.
Worse case scenerio: Cause you could have, but you wouldn't.

In other news it seems as though Awwwz. Sorry but one is one too many.

We all feel different when we're in the spotlight.
It's okay to laugh at others getting posted in tabloids and ridiculed, but when it's our turn for the rumors and gossip and it's our turn to say the "that wasn't how it went" that we heard so many others say before, it suddenly "isn't fair."
It never is.

When you go to sleep tonight, wrap your arms around the one you love. It's never too late to make a memory you'll be missing later.

XO.