You and those Goddamn Red Lines

You and those God Damn Red Lines

I have a drink before I write. It cools the nerves. Kind of like having a drink before the first date, I never know what to say.

Some Tito’s and orange juice seem to calm nerves.

I haven’t written in a long time, and when I have a drink, my words spill out, half the time it’s gibberish and half the time the words form into those of a lyrical genius. I never know what I’m going to read the next morning.

My blog is where I post the personal stuff, the nitty gritty details that are far too fetch for my blog or the details I hope my parents won’t find, but I just need to get onto paper… or onto my screen.

Wow lots of red lines on the screen right now, I need to slow down.

When I drink I don’t go crazy, I’m not the psychotic case you read about in the news or see plastered on the news. As one of my friends says…

“Meg you turn into the lost puppy who goes quiet and just observes…”

I don’t necessarily think that is a bad thing, because in my case right now, the lost puppy was found.

Because, I texted you (I’m sorry Professor Robinson for starting a paragraph with because, I know I shouldn’t have). I could mean multiple “yous” because let’s be honest, there hasn’t been just one of you. I’m a nineteen-year-old who has experienced heartbreak and relationships in it’s many forms. So “you” in this instance, is the most recent one, in this case, I hope you know who you are.

So, I texted you, we were texting earlier and I figured I would continue the conversation because I was bored, slightly drunk and feeling like I needed to text someone.

Anything wrong with that?

Nope, I don’t think so. Maybe I should switch the name on this blog so no one knows it’s me…. Good idea or bad idea? I’ll let you decide. Or I’ll factor in if my parents read this post.

I asked you what was funny because I wanted to know, part of me already knows, because whether you know it or not, I know you better than you think.

Of course, you gave the most humanly possible, most stupid answer.

Want to know another thing that is funny? You think you’re mysterious, but I have you figured out. I know what your deal is; it isn’t hard to decipher. In fact, I’ve known your secret since last February; I just decided to play along with it because I was a fool.

I’m still a fool.

But the difference is, I’m not still falling for it. This time, I had a plan, and I was bulletproof.

I wouldn’t let you get me like last time because, this time, I built a wall that was indestructible. Your eyes wouldn’t knock me down and your soft spoken words wouldn’t crack the walls.

I’ve played your game before; at least, that’s what I told myself, and this time, I was prepared. I had my army trained and was ready to go. Lines practiced and words spoken verbatim, there was no way you’d break my wall down.

Then I saw you.

And you want to know the funny thing?

You didn’t break my wall down. You only made a dent.

And here I am, standing, well sitting, and I am doing fine.

When I need 200 or 300 words for my journalism class, it’s like brain surgery and I have no idea what the next move is. When I write for you, for no one actually because god knows no one reads this blog, I spit out words, I can’t seem to write fast enough.

Hence, the copious amounts of red lines