witnessed a coach from cherokee at champps almost snap his neck checking me out while walking by me. have never felt better about myself. and some jew bought my drink. anddd ran into a familiar face from drumline. hm.
then came home and watched the beyonce/gaga video for telephone.
married. to some chick in guatemala. who lives in his house. in guatemala. next door to his rents. they got married about a year ago after his divorce was finalized. and shes waiting for him to come home.
i mean, i knew something was up. but for someone you care a heck of alot about to sit there with you, face to face, and be so straight up honest? it smarts. its like a million waves of emotion wash over you within a matter of seconds, and youre supposed to react with some form of vocabulary and you cant get a single word out. no english. no spanish. no nada.
i cried. alot.
i never meant for it to mean this much.
fuck, were not even dating.
now all my suspicions are confirmed.
and everything is coming in so clear.
at an alarmingly fast rate.
i really fell for a guatemalan.
an HONEST guatemalan.
granted, gotta give him props for confessing.
also granted, gotta give him props for wrapping me around his finger.
not many people can do that, not after phil king ruined my life anyway.
"if i met you a year earlier felicia. i would have made you my wife. youre everything, youre perfect. but i feel bad you know? my ex fucked around on me, i dont want to do the same. i dont want anyone to hurt because of me. and everything is good between me and her so i dont want to fuck it up. and looking at you, i know i hurt you and i feel so bad."
blahblahblah, thats me though. day late, dollar short.
and si, he does speak that fluent of english.
damn it damn it damn it.
and the fucked up part is, i cried so much in front of him today.
and i dont cry in front of ANYONE.
and he wiped my tears.
every last one.
and then he almost cried bc he knows he hurt me.
and he has feelings for me.
that i dont think he intended on having.
life is not fair.
hes completely bipolar too.
so in a few days he could turn around and we could be playing like little kids again.
QUE SERA SERA.
or at least thats what the spanish part of my brain keeps telling me.
the english part of my brain just keeps saying WTFWTFWTF.
because listen, i know in the past two years ive been all over the place.
ive hooked up with people who mean absolutely nothing.
ive made people fall for me then completely ignored their existence.
ive gone thru phases where i turn sex into something that resembles a comfort.
only for the time being. then i wake up in the morning and its onto the next task.
i CRAVE love in the worst way.
you can put me in debt.
you can take away my finances.
you can batter me until i bleed.
i can handle all of that.
i cant take this not feeling love thing.
i am truly at my best when im in love.
not saying i am in love with him.
because i dont even remember full on what being in love felt like bc it was such a sham.
but i do love him.
i do care for him.
and whatever bond we have...its the closest thing i can compare to what love felt like.
and i have not felt that in two years.
if fairy tales happen in real life, love can conquer all.
so who knows.
this is either the end. or the beginning.
i just dont know where to go from here.
i do however, need a xanex in the worst way possible.
i heard about my sister and her drug addiction again tonight and how bad it really is.
and for some reason it struck a nerve and i started crying.
then it turned into bawling in the corner of the kitchen.
who did i cry to?
who comforted me?
who made my toast for an order bc i was too distraught to think straight?
who said exactly the right thing at the right time to calm me down and kept making sure i was okay?
oh yeah. you know who.
THEN, who decided that tonight was a prime time to inform me that he is indeed married and he feels bad when we take our playing around too far?
im in a glass case of emotion.
i need to ask my psychologist to send me to a psychiatrist so i can get a script for xanex.
i cant take these mood swings and how powerful they keep getting.
every time its worse and worse.
and the panic attacks involving dogbite flashbacks are absolutely terrible.
if you were me, youd be in ancora psych ward by now.
but you are not me.
thank your lucky stars.
phew. going to cry myself to sleep. i think.
maybe not because i went all drug addict fiend and found my dads percoset.
hoping it will numb me enough to sleep.
fyi: im not a drug addict by any means. those days are long past. i just, cant function when shit like this hits the fan. all in one night.
i got three roses, a teddy bear and a balloon from my hunnie bunnie. therefore, valentines day was a success. for the first time in two years. hallelujah.
waiting for hercules to call me back to hopefully tell me that colleen can take off and i can work all night. with the boofriend. psuedo, of course.
atlantic city last night was very nice. cuba libre is a good restaurant. sorta shitty service, but the red sangria totally made up for it.
drinks on the casino floor were so weak. and the bartender seriously fucked up all three of our drinks at the bar. fail. where liquor fails, others get the job done. i finally past out at like 630am. after ordering room service for diane and maria. success.
its weird to not have a hangover after ac. im tired, but no hangover. im not complaining i guess.
won big then lost big, now trying to hustle over the next few days. finding it impossible to look cute in that stupid medport shirt. i want a black shirt. black is slimming, silly.