Fucking spiders

I don’t mind being bitten by one, but on my forehead? Come on…I have a fucking growth the size of a golf ball now…at least I have bangs.

I will search and destroy it!

Now that the joking is over even though it did happen…I have to confess.

A lot.

The reason for my post the other day about Vance is he stayed here for four days. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

I tried to help him and I know what everyone thinks…why would I do it again (and no we did not have sex…gross).

I had to kick him out once again after the words he said in that post that I wrote because my heart can’t take it anymore.

He came over a couple of days later after drinking more than his body weight and doing blow.

He knocked and I let him in. He sat across the room from me and rubbed the dog’s heads.

I asked, “How are you?”
He replied, “How do you think?”

He walked out without saying a word.

He didn’t come back.

I called him and asked what that visit was all about.

“I’m through with you, you make me feel like a loser…FUCK YOU!

It hurt and it will always hurt but maybe I needed for me to release me instead of me hanging on.

I do hate to say, if he’s found dead in a ditch tomorrow I won’t be surprised but I’ve done all I can do.

No one can save anyone that doesn’t want to save themselves.

I know where I’ve been and I know why I think the way I do.

I know why I like chick flicks because I always wanted to be the chick.

I know why Vance and I were together because it was just like my mother and father.

I’m not walking through life blind like people think I do…I would just prefer to.