damik's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Second best can be alright

It was an alright night. It could have been better. When Trevor got home from work he was kind of down on himself because he doesn't think girls find him attractive. About how he was the kind of guy who doesn't get the hot girls. Then he asked if I wanted to go back to the manogomus thing.
I don't know, it felt like he couldn't find anything better so he was going to settle for me. I'm some cheep conolation prize. I'm his lowered expectation. It hurt.
We went out to eat, then we were going to go to the Tavernacle together. He decided he was too tired, and he didn't enjoy it so much so he didn't end up going.
So I went with out him. I wasn't as into it tonight. The house was packed and it was a great crowd, but I tend to think of myself as no better then what someone else thinks of me. So I am the booby prize. But hell, I should take comfort that to him, despite my bitchiness, my sloppiness, my laziness, I'm still better then him not being with anyone.
So I sat there half distracted, looking at a broken piece of glass on the table, it wasn't sharp enough to cut me, I checked, but it brouught me back to the very first time I went to the club. Holed up in the bathroom stall cutting my arms. Sometimes it can be such a lonely place.
The cute piano player is married. So the fact that he's too old for me is moot. He's too involved in a relationship for me. I guess that means the fact that he'd probably never take an intrest in me that way is probably moot as well.
My shirt worked. I scored myself more then my share of hugs tonight. So if you just happened to be in the Tavernacle earlier and you gave a hug to a girl in a shirt proclaming "Hug Whore", yah, that was me.

1:51 a.m. - 02-08-03
0 comments

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next