Ever feel like turning into a big knife? Like your whole body would become a big ass blade of sheer terror and it would just wield so much power that everyone would stay the fuck away from you. I have? In fact, I feel like that now.
I wish people understood that when you break up, it means just that, you are broken. As in no longer together equaling one whole part. Meaning two separate parts that no longer need the other half they are separated from to function as a whole. Basically, stay the fuck away from the other part that you are no longer attached to. Why is this so hard to understand?
Its like very basic geometry. I was never very good at geometry other than, " this round thing is a circle, this square thing is a square, this long square thing is a rectangle and this pointy one is a triangle". That's all I got out of it. I do know however, that when you cut a square in half, or a circle, or a triangle it then becomes two separate things and that means it is broken. Broken up if you will. It really is not that hard, it's not like calculus or advanced physics. There are no unsolvable equations and weird unidentifiable symbols. No, its fucking simple like, 1 parts coke 2 parts rum simple. SO EASY! Being that it is so easy, I do not understand why Mike's ex cant comprehend it. She does after all have an Ivy League education. She should at least be good in basic geometry.
Thing is, she's not. And this is why I need to cut her with something like a paring knife from Ikea. Because, she feels as though it is perfectly acceptable to over step her boundaries and try to stick her triangle on to Mikes square. NO. NOT HAPPENING. This disturbs me, do not e-mail and reference When Harry met Sally. Do not try to lure him into your web of filth and disgusting hair. Back it up son.
My best comparison is this: It makes me feel like I am in the ocean and Mike is the raft I am floating on. The raft is the thing that makes me happy and keeps me safe from all the sting-y bite-y things waiting to get me in the big bad deadly Ocean . I float along happily until the raft starts to be rocked by big annoying curly waves. I have to hold onto the raft and simultaneously fight off all the sting-y things with my oar and then kick all the bite-y things with my legs and this takes so much effort and makes me so mad that I can't just enjoy the mother fucking sunshine on my raft.ALL I WANT TO DO IS FLOAT MOTHER FUCKS.!!!! NO, the big curly freak waves want to rock the shit out of my raft and try to throw me into the ocean to drown and die and get attacked by stingy-stab machines of death. Stupid waves are trying to suck my raft into their ugliness and turn it into a yacht that floats the Philadelphia Phillies around. I manage to secure my raft to a rock though, because I am resourceful and a survivor so the wave can go fuck itself. I love the raft, I am keeping the raft. Fuck off.
I have lost a lot of stuff lately, mostly that stuff is people Pretty much I hate feeling like people are trying to take things away for me, I should be entitled to have a few things that make me happy, so I hold on pretty tightly. Like a little spider monkey with glue on it's paws. So, that's pretty much what this situation has come down to. Oceans filled with rafts filled with Spider Monkeys who were playing with glue. Makes sense now doesn't it?
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