Tring tring.

You asked for my number.

And in my head im going-

"No no no no no no no. Why do i always attract the freaks and the randoms? Why? Why did u just admit to me that you asked your last girlfriend to marry you, and she would have said yes except for teh fact that her mom didnt like you? Do you think ill be impressed? Our touched by how you wanted a long engagement so that she could "complete her studies?" Your kinds sicken me, the types that think we can get swayed by how you loved your exes " a little too much" and how it was all "deep between the both of you." Yuck and double sick. I cant believe you can be related to such a good friend of mine. She turned out so normal, and look at you. Youve tried heroine for gods saks. HEROINE. But its not her fault, its J's the idiot for introducing us at that party. Bloody hell. Bloody fucking hell"

Haan so thats what im thinking. And i try to change the subject, and act like i havnt heard you. But you ask again , and again, and im kind of at a loss for words. So then i sigh, and i smile, and give it to you, regretting bieng alive at this very moment.

Get home and call up Goldie and cry and bitch and make myself sound so harmless. A little senseless flirting lands me in this deep shit. He laughs at me, and at the end, i end up laughing at myself.

But i once again ask myself.. why the weirdos.. WHY????????