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| The Misadventures of an Analyst: Drugs are like...
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...Truth serum.
Went to the clinic to get my neck checked out. I can't drive and he has my car because for some odd reason I let him use it because he wrecked his bike. (Which was apparently my fault because he was pissed at me and driving recklessly because I insinuated I was going to sleep with someone other than him...I was drunk, but I didn't say that.) So I had him pick me up. Went to the doc, got lots of lovely, pain-numbing drugs, got a shot in the ass (which really, really hurt, by the by!), and quickly let myself loose to the numb feeling of said drugs. "I'm mad at you." I said. "And I'm sorry, but these meds are making me blisteringly honest."
He replied, "You aren't telling me anything I don't already know. I thought you'd chill out though."
"Ha right. No sorry, I'm tired of being fucked over."
"I haven't fucked you, nor have I fucked you over." he spat back.
"Actually," I replied scathingly; with all the dignity I could muster in my drug-induced state. "You most certainly did and you're still doing it."
"Well will you at least come hang out with me later." (He didn't deny my accusation)
"Maybe if I feel like getting out of bed. And even if I do feel like getting out of bed it'll still be a maybe."
And carefully, I extricated myself from the car and stumbled towards my door. But I don't think I had the upper hand in this fight.
I don't often speak what's on my mind. I like to toss it around in there for a bit; try to make sense of it. Sometimes this process takes awhile. Sometimes I never ,ever say what I want to say because I can't figure out how to say it.
What do I really truly want to say to him? Well I'd probably start by telling him that every time he kisses me, hugs me, or tries to be sweet I feel like crying, because I know he's just using me until she gets back. He talks about what they used to do and how clever and awesome she is and I wonder, "So why are you pretending you're with me? Why'd you start this?"
And then I get pissed off and act like a bitch and remember that this isn't the first time this has happened and I honestly don't know why I keep trying. My track record when it comes to men is pretty bad. And then I realize that I will likely never get married. Most of my friends have gone off and met their knights in shining armor, they are adored, loved, absolutely cherished and it would probably be sickening if I wasn't so damn jealous.
There we go. I'm a green-eyed monster. Literally green-eyed. And...yeah...the truth serum is wearing off.
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