I spend my days below 14th St. and generally above Canal. I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve been in love. I’ve had my heart ripped out and handed to me by numerous women. I’ve done my share of ripping too. These are stories of my New York.
Found this today:
I have to change the things that I find attractive. Let go of whatever inside that tells me someone is desirable when all they are is damaged. I don’t want to save anyone but I am totally susceptible to mistaking excitement for love. I’ve been doing it for years. Push me away, then pull me close. This roller coaster of emotions must be love right? No, it’s just a fucking roller coaster. It’s easy to get hooked on drama. It’s so fun. Never knowing when the phones going to ring. Never knowing if the next text is going to warm my heart or turn my stomach. Today I do not want this kind of excitement. I’m looking at the cracked screen in my iPhone and wondering why I’m such a sucker. Got so mad I smashed my phone? Really? At my age? I’m putting on the breaks. I might not stop over night but I’m slowing down and pulling out of this lane.
Written 10/25/09
I remember writing it because I could not, not text this girl. My friend asked me what I got out of texting with someone that was a bitch to me. I told him if I stayed the course she would eventually admit her wrongs. He asked if I’d rather be right or happy? I have not spoken to her since…
