Oh, I've Been Bad.

Real bad. I'm not happy about it. Too much liquor, too many boys. Nothing solid to drag home with me, just misses, swing batta batta, ouch, FAIL. I fell for one of you lads, fell pretty hard. But he doesn't want me. I fell for another more than a year ago, and he wants me, but he loathes me, and he loves me, and he is reactionary and unkind; he is too much trouble.

And what's with the Mexicans?
I don't want the Indie Rock Hipster Revolutionary Mexican.

I don't want Flakey Fucker Artist Mexican (though I did initially feel quite warmly toward him after he lured me in post-spending an hour pretending he was gay, graphically hitting on my friend Joe only to follow it up with the statement, "You know I'm not gay, right? I think you're gorgeous and I want to take you out sometime." Turns out one great date was all he could handle and after two flake-dates I told him he could funk off.)

I do want thick, hairy, sexy, masculine, truck driving, smart, sweet and sensitive in private, total obnoxious douchebag in public, wife beater wearing, tattooed, music obsessed, hip hop loving, slight southern drawl having, intimate, intense eye contact in the sack giving Mexican. But, I done telled you already; he don't want me.

With the way I've been acting, I wouldn't want me neither. I've been bad. Impulse control with that latter one is an extreme low. Put a little whiskey in me and TMT sets in. He's been a sweetheart, considering, but that only exacerbates the situation. If he'd just say, "Hey, little batshit girl, it just ain't gonna happen," then I'd give up the ghost and move on. Instead, he throws nuggets at me my brain holds onto. That he wants me to know him. That there's so much more inside him than anyone sees, implying he wishes for me to see those soft, squishy bits. But... I haven't spent any quality time with the lad in close to two months. AND YET I STILL CAN'T LET IT GO.

I've been bad. I need to shut the fuck up.

But damnit all, I just want someone to love. Who loves me.