The Story of My Life

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. This mantra is coming back to haunt me.
Anyone you invest your time in and actually take the courage to love will inevitably fuck you over. Royally.

And my story is the same this time as it ever was before. I fell for everything; hook, line, and sinker. But even though this is probably the worst I've been screwed over, I feel much more optimistic about it than all the other times, and I have no idea why.

Maybe I'm still in denial, the natural novacaine. Because every once in awhile it's like I get lifted from some sort of hazy fantasy and everything comes screaming at me again. There is nothing that can ever make me forget about what happened. The weird part, though, is that I don't think that's what is keeping me from saying "Fuck it. Let's just do this." I mean, I guess that has a lot to do with it, naturally. But sometimes I think that it was just a catalyst of realization for me. It sort of snapped up the shade to make me see that my feelings weren't what they used to be. I don't know. At the same time, I guess it's kind of hard to respect and care about someone that basically spit on the face of what you made together.

I'm still so confused by everything that's happened. I hate that this even is what's going to define my summer. "Summer '08? Oh yeah. That was the year my heart got crushed under the big bus that's my room mate."

Jeez. I need a cocktail.