One is the loneliest number...

Pretty Girl is suffering while he confesses everything. She’s beautiful as usual, with bruises on her ego and her killer instinct tell hers to be aware of evil men. Well, that’s what you get for falling again—you can never get him out of your head. It’s the way he’s in your mind. It’s the way he kisses you. It’s the way he makes you fall in love.

One. That number has haunted me all my life. It’s so solitary, so intimidating. So unresolved. I don’t like feeling like I don’t have control over my feelings. I’ve gotten good at surviving all these years with being “one”. So when someone comes along and catches me off guard, I don’t know what to do. I was not expecting this—someone to come along right now and make me question everything that I finally thought I had figured out.

I don’t even know how it happened. This thing that keeps eating away at me. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. Not even a little bit—I went into that class with the firm resolve that I was finally accepting myself. Maybe I was just hiding behinda farce to avoid dealing with my feelings of inadequacy around men. I don’t know, but what I do know is that I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

I took a two week bartending course that I have thoroughly enjoyed. But I feel like I didn’t get any closure. I was just getting used to going there every night and then it was over. I am going to miss it – and I don’t feel like I’m ready to get a job yet. I could use another week of training. I’m going to miss sitting on those smelly barstools next to Carol listening to her ramble on. I’m going to miss the bathroom that never had toilet paper and smelled like pee. I’m going to miss Renee’s jolly laugh and incomprehensible English. Andrea and 100-proof smoking in the freezing weather. Mixing drinks and making mistakes, but always knowing I could start the time clock over again. I get attached to things too fast, many of us do. And I mourn their losses, their endings. I guess it’s only a natural part of life. I didn’t think I would miss it this much- being apart of something other than my normal life. It felt so great to escape for a change. I could be anyone I wanted to be there. I could write my own story. I don’t know what exactly about that experience made me so happy, but I’m going to miss it. I’ll miss the drive and the small school inside of a strip mall. Two weeks isn’t a very long time to love something—but I’ve fallen for things in much less time than that, and other things have had to work for years to get my love. I guess that’s why it’s the most painful—it hurts more when you fall hard and fast then when you love slow and steady.

It hurts because everything happened so fast. Within the course of one night my life was changed. I’m so tired of this life – it’s so boring. I wish everyday could be like that day.

and Valentine's Day is on wednesday. when boys who are asking me to fuck them at a bar proceed to invite me on a little shopping trip to pick our presents for their girlfriends, it makes me want to kill myself.