Thank you for playing...

That man is not my life, apparently. In a three hour phone conversation last night, Harold (New Orleans Boy's real name...I will save real names for those who disappoint me) told me he wasn't coming to Chicago because he didn't think he could give me the kind of relationship I "wanted." In talking with him, it became apparent that he was just fucking scared. He's scared of changing his life even though he himself says he doesn't like what's happening in it. He's scared of caring too deeply for someone in case they challenge him to do better or be better. He's afraid of fucking everything. So I said to him, "Well, Harold, looks like you win. You get to keep everything the way it is. Too bad all that is just a consolation prize, though." I said I didn't want to be his "friend." I have plenty of friends and not a single goddamn one of them is a coward like him. The last thing I said was "You're either going to have to jump or die with regrets. Goodbye."

In the distance, in the darkness, I heard a motorcycle roar by as if the universe had to remind me how poor my decision making skills have been in the arena of relationships. Thanks, Universe. Do I get a year's supply of Turtle Wax, too?