Wednesday, August 31, 2005

REI, we need to talk

When we first met, things were fantastic. My day would be brightened just by being around you, and I could spend hours silently admiring you. You’d let me come over when ever I wanted, but you never pressured me to do anything I wasn’t ready for. You never mentioned my inexperience, or showed any indication that it bothered you; in fact you seemed to enjoy teaching me the worldly things I needed to know.

As our relationship developed into something much more, you were always there for me, and always keeping an eye out for ways to add a little more excitement to our lives. When ever I’d come over, you’d have some new toy that you would be dieing for us to try out. You never gave no as an answer, and at the end of the year, you even showed me how much you loved me. Overall, life was good.

As we grew together and matured, our relationship changed and matured also, but the excitement never seemed to die. We were the same, yet different. We had grown more independent of each other, yet at the same time, grown closet together. Although I didn’t show up at your doorstep as often I used to, I felt there was no love lost between us when I did.

Despite all these great things, and really, I can’t stress how great it’s been with you; I need to talk to you about something. The problem is this; you’re taking too much of my money. It was cute at first, I understand all relationships need a little bit of investment to get them off the ground, but this is getting a little ridiculous. Seriously, STOP TAKING MY MONEY. Not only does this make me feel degraded and used, but our relationship is destined to fail if you keep it up. It’s like I can’t even be with you for more than five minutes with out you’re pilfering through my pockets like a crack whore looking for loose change to score her next hit. Even your yearly token of love and appreciation fails to compensate. I feel as if I’m still giving just as much, if not more, as I was in the past, but not receiving it in return.

In addition, I’m starting to feel like you don’t even care about me, and it’s just about the money. I’ve always noticed the other guys hanging around and had my suspicions, but I chose to ignore it. I thought what we had was special. Lately, I’m beginning to think that it doesn’t make any difference to you who it is rummaging around under your shirts, as long as they have the cash.

.. …Wait, where are you going?
No, don’t go.
I..I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it. I can change. Really, I can.
Please don’t go, I need you, I love you…….


Blogger Chanchita said...

Your diary is great. You need more photos of you and your adventures on there though.

Aaanyway, if you want to get rid of the spam, go to your settings and choose word verification 'yes.'

'Stillabitpsycho' posted why on comments on my blog if you want to look. Promise I'm not advertising, just thought you should know is spamming is an absolute bitch.

2:27 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home