A conversation with myself, about myself… hold off on the men in white, kay?
What on earth are you blathering about?
Oh, hi again, my inner debbie-downer. How’s life on the negative side.
Surviving just fine without you. What’s with the tag line? Trying to be clever?
Ha, ha, no. I feel it. Like there’s a pike through my chest.
That’s called being dead, stupid.
I just… this hurts so much. I don’t know why -why does it hurt so much? There is positive and negative, and I feel like my internal organs -or one in particular- is going to shred inside me.
Sounds like you need a surgeon.
Ya know, I’m kinda pissed that nobody warned me love would hurt this bad. I might just die from anxiety.
And who’d miss you? He wouldn’t.
Don’t say shit like that, it’s mean. Plus I can’t feel it over the soul-crushing pain I’m going through right now. I can’t feel anything but this phantom pain bleeding into my soul from my stupid heart. Why didn’t I just ignore it, like I had been doing? Why didn’t I just kill this emotion when the pain started.
Because, ya idiot, you thought it’d be a good idea to feel for a change. So, was it -is it worth it? Frankly, I don’t see or feel your need to piss all over life with this moonsick, love-struck bullshit. Why is this even a topic right now?
I don’t know, okay! I’m just…trying to work through this shit.
Riiiiiight, by not doing anything. As always. Fucking coward.
Haha, really we’re both fucked, so I win.
So, what are you waiting for?
Damnit… timing is important
Right, so keep waiting until time runs out and you’re both dead. You’re old friend Fear is alive and well, I see.
We’ve been through this, come up with something more original, dummy. What’s with the fear?
I don’t know, I DON’T KNOW, OKAY!!!
Whine, bitch, moan, be a man already! Your weak ass approaches and delay tactics piss me off.
Fucking terrified. Stupid what-ifs. I see binary. I see yes or no. I see disaster. I see success.
Are you so fucking risk adverse you’d pass up on opportunity -Again? Maybe you do need those testosterone shots, help you grow some balls or something -fucking pussy.
I’m reeeeeaaaaly feeling the love, bro. Seriously, I feel so loved.
Your sarcasm is almost as bad as your logic. Stop pussy-footing and seize the day. Before you run out of days. He’ll move on, just like the last one, if you keep waiting around for some stupid reason. Just do it already.
Easy for you to say, I’m the one who-
Who’ll what? Reap the reward? Survive the aftermath? We’re in this together; you bleed, I bleed. I’m a part of you, you’re a part of me. We can do this -You, can do this.
Look at you, being all supportive…
Better than listening to you whine weeks on end. It’s been a month, make your fucking move already. Tomorrow. Today. In 10 hours. DO IT.
You tell him straight up. Tell him this week, and we’ll go shopping for bike trainers this weekend.
*raises eyebrow. Really? Bribery?
Whatever fucking works, man. Stop hovering and make a move. Get on, or get over it.
Fine… have any good tips for me?
Be clear and direct. Don’t dance, and be honest. Push comes to shove, just keep being friends if he says no. He won’t want to break the friendship.
I hope not. GOD I HATE THIS!!!
But I hate you more. Cheers.
Thanks bro. You’re always reliable. Hate you too.
The term Impaled pales in comparison to the actual emotion of love. The feeling cannot begin to be described by simple phrase.
“Better to love and lose than to never love”? I don’t know. Love hurts. What benefit is pain? Galvanize action- or disaster. When this is over, if it pans out badly,
-Legit, I’ll need to take a long time out and get through the pain that will most likely be compounded. I can only pray to be a better survivor, when the next time comes.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Let’s go gamble.
I still hate you…
*Picture Credit: Pinterest