I mean, still in the shit and all, but at least no lower than yesterday.

The Dude bailed on the trip for Alex’s birthday. Which, yes, is one more checkmark in the “zomg you fucking suck, you fucking fuck” column.

He knew he’s fucked me over. Again. Which. Yawn. Uh huh. I hear you. You say you’ll do better, yeah well we will see. It was one of those times where all of his immediate family decided they needed him RIGHT NOW and I was the one who got screwed over.

That yielded some tears and yelling from me. Along with some laughs and some hanging out and some food and some movies. 25 years is a long time. It’s a blurry line between best friend, fuckhole, dumbfuck, I hate you, I love you.

I slept there last night. I thought of the first time we slept together. (Not screwing, you gutter minds, actual sleeping.) We were 17. Our moms were all gone and we lived together for the better part of a month. That first morning we woke together I was like WHOA, and knocked over with the intimacy of the whole sleeping/waking with someone thing.

Last night, he stretched out on his side facing me, I snuggled back to him, took his hand, his other arm wrapped around me.

“I’m still mad at you.” I said.

“I know.”


“I love you.” I said.

he squeezed my hand.

“I hate your face.” I said.

And he held me close and snickered all the way to sleep.

As it turned out, Alex had declared yesterday “NO [Dude]! [Dude] stays in Missouri!” So I at least felt somewhat less pissed on the drive out. Of course then Alex asked after I got here, “Is that [Dude] at the door?” No buddy. No, it’s not. “Is [Dude] at his house?” Yes buddy. Yes he is.

Dude told his mom and sister about the break today. I know because sister texted me on my drive out that she hoped I was okay and she was thinking of me and she and the mom miss me and Alex.


I’ve always said I think it takes as long to get over someone as you had with them since the beginning. Well. If this holds true, and this is truly truly the end, I will be over this completely in 2036.

I hope my boobs stay fab that long. I might need some work done on ’em.