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(I wrote the first paragraph around three months ago, and the rest five weeks ago)

Some days like today, I feel very…I don’t know how to say it.Well, I do know how, but I’m being selective. Lately I’m even more selective with my words. Not just the ones I write here, but everything I do and say. I try not to say anything, being me, its really difficult. Sometimes I even let go. I don’t usually let go, but lately I just get tired. I just move on. I can’t always prove that I’m right. No matter what, sometimes logic and evidence doesn’t win. Maybe my mind is too scientific. But I don’t know. I don’t consider myself a man of science.

I hate it. I hate how I understand too much. I don’t mean this in a cocky/asshole way. I just do.

When it comes to people, I see them and I understand them. I can smell their pain. And with a conversation or two, I can easily see their flaws, their ambitions, their fears. This was a great skill to have back in high school. I could use it to pickup girl. Talk to one for 5 minutes and then I would alter myself to what they were looking for. I wouldn’t change, but I would adjust my behaviour. For example I would talk less about SOAD and MetalllicA and more about Eminem and Dr.Dre.

I remember one time I met this girl at a party and the conversation went towards parents and I had this feeling that this girl really hated her dad. All of the sudden I could feel the tension in her voice. She then changed the topic. I felt a bit sad, and so did she. I had to make a decision. I could see that she was in pain. Something really bothered her. She was no longer at the party. Her mind was drifting from one memory to the other. Maybe reviewing the injustice. I don’t know. But I had to make a decision. I decided to help her. I didn’t want to just walk away. I knew helping her would probably result in me not getting any that night, but I couldn’t just simply walk away. Sexuality and parents don’t really go well together. I started bullshitting on how I hated my parents and how they don’t get me and so on. Basically shooting in the dark, hoping something would stick. All of the sudden she started to explode. Her voice started to crack. Her eyes got brighter and started to shine cause she now had a tear or three in them, waiting for a moment of weakness to shatter the barrier and attack her cheeks with the mascara. I hate it when girls cry. I really do. I think almost every single guy on the planet hates it. It’s like the kryptonite for men. But what made this situation even more fuckedup was the fact that I couldn’t remember her name and I also knew like two people at the party. It’s hard enough to calm a girl down while she’s crying, now imagine not knowing her first name and being in a stranger’s house. I looked around for a tissue, nothing.

I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that she needed a hug, so I grabbed her, pulled her towards me, and put her head on my shoulder. She continued to cry, only this time much louder. Here I am, at a party where I know a total of 3 people. With a girl that I met no more than 20 minutes ago, crying her eyes out on my shoulder. I remember looking around the place, just to make sure nobody is staring at us. I think people thought we were making out or something and decided to let us be. I told her that everything is going to be fine. I lied. I didn’t know that, but I knew that’s what she needed to hear. I’m sure she knew I was lying, but at some level wanted to hear me say it as well. I tried to remember her name, but it wasn’t gonna happen. After a good 15 minutes she stopped. With her wet eyes, and sobbing breath, she looked at me. Half of her makeup was on her cheek, and the other half on one of my favourite shirts. She then ran upstairs. Said nothing, just ran. I’m not sure why, but I assumed to clean herself up. Maybe redo her makeup? Maybe she felt embarrassed. I called up my buddy and told him that I’m bouncing. I figured she didn’t wanna see me again that night. I wouldn’t want to see me if I was her. I wasn’t in a party mood anyways. I knew the best thing to do was to leave. He asked why? And then noticed my shirt. I told him it’s a long story and just left. On the drive home, I did my best to remember her name. I felt like shit. This girl just had a really special and private moment with me and I didn’t even remember her name. I wanted to text my friend and ask him if he knew her, just so I could get the first name, it was driving me insane. I didn’t text him, and never brought it up. Figured I had to explain too much to satisfy my curiosity. It just didn’t seem right. I never saw her again. My night and a kickass shirt got ruined that night. But I think I made a difference. I don’t know what was up with her, but I know she needed me that night. She needed a shoulder to cry on. If I could go back, I would do it all over again.

(I wrote most of this thing two weeks ago, but got lazy and never posted it. I suck, I know.)

I don’t write as often anymore. I don’t know why. Maybe cause I feel a bit happier. I don’t really know, but I don’t write poems either, and that bothers me. I never felt like I had it in me. It came out of nowhere and looks like it’s gone for now. Like one of those movies, where the hero just shows up, saves the world and then vanishes into the night? Clint Eastwood movies basically. I bought a small Laptop (Netbook). I feel like I might write more cause I have this “machine”, but I don’t know yet. We shall see.

We celebrated 3 years of togetherness. I can’t believe it’s been that long. Breakups aside, it’s been amazing. The good has been really really good. To be perfectly honest, I’m not an easy guy to deal with, so she gets all the credit for that. She isn’t a walk in the park either, but you know…I guess I’m harder to deal with. (I know I’m gonna regret writing that)

I realize that my life, and this blog, are a bit boring for strangers when I’m in a relationship. If I was single, I would write about encounters with the opposite sex, most of them would be funny, and some maybe even scary, but now, I feel like I can’t even write about the PAST encounters. It’s funny, cause even though she knows all my stories, and I mean all of them, I’m sure she would still hire a hitman to cut my head off!!

(Warning, a decent knowledge of the show “Gossip Girl” is required to understand the full meaning of the following paragraph)

Before we got back, she asked me to download the episodes of this show called Gossip Girl. Apparently she had read the books and really liked them. By the title, one can pretty much know what the show is about. Due to my vast knowledge of attaining illegal and copyrighted material, I got the episodes and sent them with her for her summer vacation. It is really hard for me to eat lunch without watching TV. I usually Tivo the Daily Show and enjoy it with my meal. But as you might know, The Daily Show goes on breaks and one day I got bored and started watching the shows that I had downloaded for her. My assumption was, if it was a book, then it must’ve been at least decent that they made it into a TV show. Which I think is a fair assumption. I was wrong. It was horrible; it was so bad that I couldn’t believe that I’m actually watching it. But I watched them all. Just like a stupid fucking car crash, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Halfway into the season, I realized that the characters were supposed to be 16!! None of them looked younger than 20. I went on IMDB and read each and every one of their biographies. Yes, I was that pissed off! It just didn’t make sense to me. The youngest was like 18 or 19. One of the girls was actually like 27!!! Granted that she is a bit babyfaced, but c’mon man!! It really insulted my intelligence, but I continued watching it. I tried to relate to the characters, and unfortunately, the closest one that somehow represented me is a fucking douche bag. I could be an asshole, but I’m no douche bag. When we got back, we started talking about the show, cause she never watched them when she was on vacation, which leads me to believe that she had this whole thing planned so she could squeeze herself back into my life!!!! (I’m so dead now!!), but obviously she never meant it that way. Duhh!!! so when she started watching them, we had a big discussion about it. I called and asked what she was doing, and she said she’s watching the show! I asked which episode is she on, and she immediately made fun of me for watching all the first season! Then she said how much she hated “Chuck”, which is the douche bag I was talking about. And she went on to say that she hates him even more because he reminds her of me!!!!!!!!! She then tried to convince herself that I’m Dan! She knew better, and regardless of how much she wanted it, I’m no Dan. At the end she decided that I’m Serena! A little slutty, but a nice person deep down inside! I can live with that.

I guess its new years now, but it really doesn’t feel new to me. I don’t know, I just don’t have much respect for this new years, it just isn’t special enough. Christmas is, people go nuts over Christmas, but new years? Its meh, count down and then what? I’ve done the downtown thing a couple of times, and a couple of parties and they all sucked. I prefer the peace and quiet that I’m getting right now. I guess I’m officially a loner. But I don’t feel too bad now, I went cp24.com and over 65% of the people had voted that they were gonna stay home for the new years, so take that, you stupid party people!