… it was always about the chase.
at least that’s what I keep trying to convince myself.
I would tell myself what I would tell him… that it was all about the “fun” we were having and that I didn’t need him for anything more. And now he’s gone and there are days that I tell myself he was just a stupid distraction and I am F.I.N.E, fine. But, then I break down and have ridicules moments like this and you end up with ridicules posts that make me wonder out loud when “Big Boo” isn’t around… WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with you Jami? Seriously, how old are you and what did this guy really do to you? Because honestly – always, honestly, it’s all so true. He made me feel incredibly safe in his space. He was an incredible ass, but I never felt safer… Not even with Big Boo now.
Shit… damn it all to hell… and this is what you end up reading… I had planned to post the email I sent to Danger Boy earlier… it was sent with a quote about picking up the pieces and putting them back together after someone had destroyed me… ha, ironic how he eventually destroyed them all again, huh – but, I chickened out and didn’t post it. DON’T worry it was incredibly elementary and you would have gagged at the immaturity of it all.
Ahhh… Gah… point is… other than there is probably no point to this 48 year old’s teenage babble… it wasn’t all about the chase… it wasn’t about a distraction. I don’t know what the hell it was about. I just want him to go away. NO REALLY! I DO! But, he won’t. He won’t. At least not in my head… or my heart. It’s such a gooey mess. Physically he’s gone. I made damn sure of that. I just can’t get him out of anywhere else…
Gardenia – Mandy Moore
Well, I put so much thought into getting ready
Now I know that was the best part
It’s so easy to get caught up in what I’m regretting
Forget what I got from a wounded heart
I’m the one who likes Gardenia
I’m the one who likes to make love on the floor
I don’t want to hang up the phone yet
It’s been good
Getting to know me more
I’ve been seeing all my old friends in the city
Walking alone in Central Park
Doing all the things that I’ve neglected
Traded ’em all in
To be in your arms
Well, I hear my own voice
Sounds so silly
Keep on telling my story all around
Everything I lost seems so different
Well, this is how everybody gets found