I was wrong.
I thought we were going to end up as friends. She is great. She has a big heart. She’s good towards everyone.
After the things she said almost two weeks ago, it should have ended there. She said nothing but friends. That’s where I should have stopped.
But we kept talking.
And it was as if nothing. Like that never happened. Things were going great again. I was happy.
Until yesterday…
Or a few hours ago.
Because it’s 2:47 a.m. on a Saturday. It just turned to December.
I’m venting. That’s what my blog is for. That’s what it has always been for…
It was Thursday night that she told me she was crying. I tried to make her feel better via text. I think I helped.
Friday morning she woke up crying. I wanted to help again. She came over to Tijuana before noon. Obviously very distressed.
It’s about her ex-boyfriend. She was crying about that. Because her gay friend was lecturing about him. And to be honest, she talked about him a lot. A fucking lot. So much, that I feel like I know the guy. His name rings in my head…
She told me she was coming over as her worse. I was prepared for it. We saw each other, and I managed. She was mean, but I deflected every blow, didn’t let her negativity and her sadness affect me, and in turn, I tried my positivity help her (yes, I was positive for once).
It worked. I made her feel better… or so I thought.
The night carried on. The attacks kept coming. I kept deflecting. Until I couldn’t anymore.
It all went back to her ex-boyfriend, and if not, she would tell me about hooking up with someone else or pushed me to hook up with my “booty call,” which I have no desire to do so. But she pushed me away more and more. Making me feel shittier.
It’s… funny.
Not really.
But there’s no other way to describe it. At some point, I had enough. I couldn’t deal with how shitty she was making me feel. I went to the bathroom at the fancy restaurant, when I came out, she had already paid the check and blamed me for being sad.
She stormed towards the border.
I followed her just as a precaution.
Once at the border, I tried to hug her goodbye as she pushed away. I knew it was the last goodbye.
She left.
I didn’t look back.
Deleted her number from my phone. Deleted her messages.
I never added her on any social media. So there was no need to go into that.
And that was it.
A November fling. I thought it was going to last longer. I met some of her family and friends. She met some of my family and friends. I really thought it was going to last longer… I thought we looked cute together. I thought it would work out. I was excited for adventures. Mostly food and travel adventures with her.
But no.
At least I felt something for someone.
What a waste though. I can’t help to feel that it was such a fucking waste. Waste of time. Waste of feelings. A wasted effort.
Oh yeah. That was her twisting the knife when I was already hurt. And I am sure she is hurt too. Not because of me. I’m not but a speck of her troubles. I didn’t want to be one. I wanted the opposite. I just wanted to help.
That’s what hurt the most. I said, “at least I was making you feel better.”
Nope.
She responded with, “I made myself feel better, you did nothing.”
Great.
She knew how to hurt me. And she did often enough before that.
When things seemed to be going great, she would find a way to make me feel really shitty. Happened time and time again. And after I would feel shitty, she would just bounce back. Made me feel good again. And it was all forgiven.
It happened at her place. Oh yeah. I spend the night at her place a couple of times.
One of those nights, she made me feel fucking horrible before bed. I don’t even remember what she said. I just remembered laying in bed and thinking “I don’t want to be here, this feels horrible.” It was after midnight. It was already sleeping time. And all I could think of was “I want to leave. I’m going to call an Uber and leave.”
Stiff in bed, just wondering if I had an exit strategy.
Then she turned around and hugged me. And we kissed. We cuddled. We went to bed. And it was all good.
It never was.
I’m behind in work. I haven’t written dick. I haven’t been able too. The news of Tijuana repeats itself over and over. I’m tired of writing the same thing. I’m tired of myself.
She left. It was even 6 pm when she left.
I kept drinking. Downloaded the game Celeste. Great game…
Then watch Narcos Mexico… great series (so far). Much better than the last season of House of Cards…
And I fell asleep alright.
Woke up not long ago with her in my mind. And I couldn’t go back to bed. Decided to write all this stupid shit just to see if writing stupid shit would help me go back to bed…
It sort of is helping.
Therapeutical.
That’s a word.
Silver lining.
I was trying to be better for her. A better person. Get my shit together. My room had been so filthy for months. I gave 0 fucks about it. I didn’t even notice how dirty my room was. I was getting off the depression wagon. And in general be better for her.
Well… now I’m just doing it for myself. So that feels nice.
Silver lining. My room is clean and I plugged in a new stereo. My room looks great, stereo sounds nice and loud.
Silver lining. I’m trying to improve myself for no reason than just be a better self.
I hope I can.
And back to zero.
No penthouse. No car. No girlfriend.
Yes job.
I have more work. Yet another gig. And I need a car soon. Because by 2019 my responsibilities grow even further. And I need to work. Concentrate on that.
She felt so sad that she was puking the night before out of heartbreak.
I almost puked right now…
I just hope she’s happy. And finds someone that she deserves. It wasn’t me. She’ll be alright… I like to believe so.
It’s weird that I really can’t find out. Unless I stalk her on Facebook (which I’m not going to do).
I deleted her number and messages. I won’t find out about anything unless she texts me or reaches out. I really doubt that she will. And she does… I’m not sure what I will do.
I really want to hear from her. To know she’s alright. To pretend that nothing ever happened and to be back to where we were.
Another side of me just doesn’t want to hear from her ever again. It was pointless. It was a waste.
Everything is just a fucking waste.
Carry on.
Live.
Breathe.
Shit could be much worse.
Shit could be much better.
Shit is what it is.
Save draft. Go play Celeste at 3:18 a.m.
Try to feel better. Fuck up my sleep schedule. Do the work that I am behind on. Feel fucking better. I’ll be alright.
Played Celeste until almost 6 a.m.
Now it’s 11:19 a.m. and I woke up thinking it was all a nightmare.
It wasn’t.
Here I am.
Shit still sucks.
At least I got paid for the little work I did. I have to work more.
This post needs a picture.
And finally, another cover picture:
Click the picture or CLICK HERE to read the cover story.
Bumble Girl joined me for that cover… She was joining me a lot for work.
I liked her so much that I even liked her fucking car. It was a really nice new modern car. Never even drove a car that modern in my life. I enjoyed that too… driving for her.
And yep. I even liked her brother, he was chill. Her dog was starting to like me. All her friends were cool.
Still… the feeling I left with the most… Is that it was a waste.
There is one more cover picture to take care before the end of the year. And then it’s 2019. I’m closer to the office and to work than I have ever been before. I need to work more. I know I can make the magazine grow. It makes my bosses happy and it makes me happy. I’m honestly proud to work for that magazine. And I probably work for them for a few more years…. if print doesn’t die by then.
Saturday – Caturday – Workday?
Fuck. I need to. But I feel so goddamn awful.
My apartment is empty for a few nights for the first time in a long long time. My mom went to work and stayed on the other side of the border to make it to work on time.
So I’m extra lonely.
At least I have Celeste.
Oh yeah. December.
Plug in hard-drive. Backup everything. Delete extra files. I need to fix my computer as well.
So much shit to do.
I liked her so much. I already miss her…
There was no fantasy football review because I was with her most of the week. A couple of those days I was out there working. But yeah… I didn’t have time to write the silly Spanish fantasy review because I was in San Diego spending time with her…
Next fantasy review will be double…
Matingas 