Not Giving Up

It was one of those days where I wanted to pack up, go back to Michigan and just give up because it was easier. I knew I wouldn't, though. That just isn't my style. A month later and I was still jobless. I had only a handful of friends, and they were all co-workers. I was attached to a boy...because I thought I could play 'the game'. Hello--who in the hell was I kidding?

One, I can't play 'the game', I hadn't since high school. Actually, that's a lie. I can play the game. I can play it really well. Especially 10 lbs lighter and with my still raven-black hair, I was the queen at it. There was one problem. I got attached. I fell hard and fast, which is what I swore I wouldn't do.


So here I sat, another bandage in my hand ready to go over the most recent stab-wound that I had acrued in my heart. This one wasn't that big, seeing as how, well, it only lasted a week. Damn. The sex was good. Not better-than-the-ex good, but still better than any other first I had had.

Time to think like a guy. Don't text, don't call, don't care.

If only it were that easy.
Where did my bad-ass self go? The one who didn't care. The one who only thought of herself, had fun, drank until the wee-hours and knew she didn't need a guy what-so-ever?
It couldn't have all been just an act. She's in there somewhere. I just know it. I ended up in front of my mirror again, just staring. Sucking in the fat, pulling back my hair. Any physical change that could give me my confidence back. Then I snapped. It's not physical. It's mental. That attitude is inside me, not in my looks. Yes, it sucks. Yes, I wish I was getting attention. I'm an attention whore, I absolutely fucking love it, and when it's taken away just like that, of course I'm going to snap.

Messy hair. That was the key. I shook my head, whipping my hair around being an animal. Just as soon as I started, I stopped and took a good look, and just like that, there she was again. 'I missed you.' I knew I was crazy, talking to myself, but I didn't give a damn. I was back.


There isn't anything more thereputic than a punching bag, a good conversation & a movie. Unless, of course, it's pizza, wine, and getting pampered.