Douchebag texted me tonight. I heard the little musical tone as I was reading through Hegelian philosophy at noticed the 9-digit number signifying that this person wasn't in my phone's SIM card. I knew when I opened the message that it was him. The text "I really want you" confirmed my thoughts. I laughed and shook my head as I read it. Really? Really? I debated how much of a bitch I should be back to him, but I ended up just being cold. So, I texted him back. "Hm. So what's with the games then?"
"What games? I haven't done anything," he replied. Yeah, well that's kind of the problem, isn't it?
"You tell me you're going to come over then don't show. I'm done with trying and not receiving."
"Alright...I can see your point," he said. What? I don't even know what that is supposed to fucking mean. I see your point? Really, well I'm glad that's cleared up, fuckface.
"Um, alright..."I didn't know what he wanted me to say, and more importantly I didn't give a fuck.
"I don't feel that way, I'd like to come see you or you can come over here if you want."
Did he really just invite me over? After fucking ditching me for the upteenth time, he's under the impression that I'll allow something to happen with him? I think this is one of the many reasons that boys my age complain about not getting any action. They try to play a smooth game so that they can keep several girls on stand by, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I'm not going to lie, I've played the same game because I'm admittedly a selfish cunt who only cares about what makes me happy. But I don't feel that way anymore. Yes I want to have fun and be happy, but true happiness can't possibly come from the selfishness of adolescence.
"I really don't care. I'm coming home for Fall break on Sunday," I told him. I wanted to make him wonder if that was an affirmation or if it was a rejection.
"Well...I mean you can come over to my place." Yeah. Yeah, I bet I could, couldn't I? And then suck your cock, perhaps have sex, or perhaps get eaten out for a whole of three minutes. Sounds so exciting.
The only problem that I see happening is my hormones interfering. I'm on my period and for the week after my period, I am always at my horniest. My period ends tomorrow. Gods of fucking, have mercy on my soul.
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Just remember the words of my grandfather. "Yes Greg, I would like some pudding."
When you're done remembering that, beat him over the head with a frying pan.
Although, I'd like you to take comfort in knowing that if you do slip, it will only be because of horniness. Or wanting to hit him in the head with the frying pan I told you about.
Guys your age, almost 100% or them are assholes. I think it's because they are caught in that evil middle. Being so goddamn horny all they can think about is getting something to put their dick in, and having the kind of insight and maturity to be able to manipulate the fuck out of girls and smoke lots and lots of pot. Which is why so many of them have regrets when they're old. Wondering how many people they hurt along the way to waking the fuck up about reality and becoming less egocentric.
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