It’s never what you think it was

Slap my ass and call me Mary, or Mandy,  or Susan.

Who has been out there wandering aimlessly, on the streets, in life, or in your head?

  • FUCK YOU!  Do not interrupt me! I’ve wandered…. All…. Of…. My…. Life. Here I am. Blind luck, stupidity, or a karmic preemptive strike.

So let me tell you some shit. You believe your soul is crushed.. you’re eternally damaged…. filthy rags…not worthy.

I… I am alone, unworthy.. I am exceptionally damaged. Unlike anyone else…

I     WILL     NEVER     LOVE    AGAIN.
Don’t be a bitch.
You let beautiful people walk away.. They are putty in your hands. .. but one person captivates your soul….. and mutherfuck!! She aint your type… dafuq!?!?!

And when I say ain’t my type.. I mean she does not bore me, get extremely irritating,  sift through my Facebook and add random friends of mine, acting like long lost friends.

(
She doesn’t invite herself … any where with me. Bitch should! Hell, I got miles and a companion pass.. travel seems fun to everybody else…. but the really busy people. To them, it is a luxury and even more so an inconvenience.

She challenges me… fuck does she challenge me.. to the point of WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

Does she ever rock blue.

(Not her…but you get the idea)

Red white and blue, land of the free …home of the brave……Murica!!!

I could not have been set up, not even a little bit… not more perfectly, than this. It is in moments that we truly live our lives. Minuscule, tiny, moments. I was set up for failure. Destined to be a failure. Yet unwittingly,  I passed. Only in certain measures… but ‘fuckin a’… I passed. In spades.. flyin colors. Not-even-a-second… thought. Well maybe a dozen or so. But….  I PASSED!!!!

My type?… enter the brunette, brown skinned, brown eyed doe….she is young.. Canadian, and sexy as fuck. She approached me… she read only the entry of the story I was writing (see above) and over my shoulder. Im alone in a town full of wayward travelers. VERY…. alone. She won’t be back… So easy…

I engage her in writing. I tell her to continue. And to not discard her writings. She literally just thrown away a half a book of poetry she wrote regarding her ex-boyfriend. She is all about me at this point. Again so easy. We all share a drink and I send them on their way. Pretty simple.

This single, solitary, test I passed. I fail many others.

Not everyone is meant to be together. No matter how right it feels, how great it seems, how strongly you desire that other person. It is a simple fact of life. Not the ending I saw coming in this story…. a fitting one. A sad one.

As I sit here struggling how to finish this out, it really hit me. Not every story ends as we see it should. Such is life. We can yearn for that special ending, we can try as hard as we want to make things happen. Some things are just not in the cards. But never let it break your spirit, or your will. Never give up hope. Never say surrender. Be sad for a moment. Move on. Remember all of it, the good, the bad. It’s all part of the ride.

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