“So you invited you new boyfriend to come stay the weekend of my birthday and you are just telling me now? I’m not mad, you are just so fucking inconsiderate, all the time Tyler, it’s infuriating. I’m trying so hard to be level headed about all this. Thank you for constantly confirming that you wouldn’t have been good for me.”

“I hate it when you say boyfriend like that, it’s not like that. I can tell him not to come, but he is surprising me, and I need to get laid so bad.”

“Really?”

“What?”

“Nothing. No… it’s fine. But don’t expect me to be outwardly nice. Like I don’t understand what you like about him, he’s not cute or particularly interesting… and he’s a graphic designer who works at a pizza place and lives with his parents. Sorry but if you really want to be friends I’m going to be honest.”

“You’re doing that mood swing thing again.”

“Deal with it. Not really my fault.”

“This is true. I’m a dick.”

“Yep.”

“Yep.”

“He just gets me. I’m sorrrrry.”

“You don’t do relationships. You couldn’t do a relationship with me or anyone before.”

“This is different… he’s never… here. That sounded wrong. I don’t know.”

“Don’t break him too. I give you like a month before he tells you his real feelings… and then what?”

“I’ll be nice.”


(This was one of the better conversations she and I have had in the time since I last posted… things are gradually getting better, we joke around but I’m still a head fuck and she’s still reminding me of it. She is probably right though, I’ve already been pushing the limits of this open thing a little bit but I’ll dish that dirt some other time.)