Oodles of Noodles

He doesn’t want to know the truth. She dangles it in front of his face. He ignores it. She flaunts it. He waits for her to change. She keeps cheating. They don’t get along, they bring each other down. For some reason, they stay together. I don’t agree with it and sometimes my mouth runs wild, but for the most part I just keep quiet. It’s the most disfunctional relationship I’ve ever seen. I’ll never understand or agree with it, but sometimes it’s better to keep your opinions to yourself.

I’m making my way over to my favorite place. I gotta get my body movin’, shake the stress away.

It’s a typical Saturday night: I’m usually an hour late to meet the girls…We park the car in the lower garage and walk a block to my favorite place, Last Supper Club…We have a little too much fun for a few hours, then make our way across the street to the hot dog guy…There are usually some interesting characters hanging out by the hot dog stand and they keep us entertained while we enjoy our food and a bottle of water. After all is said and done, we climb into our car and head to grab some food or roll out to an after-party.

I may have left a few things out…Did I mention that the guy that works at the door, Luke, it a great kisser. No matter how much of a player I know he is, I still have a little weak spot in my spine for him. Then, there are the unfortunate guys that dance with me. And by dance, I mean fully clothed, body grinding, simulated sex that is called dance because there’s a full room of people and music so loud that it changes the rhythm of your heart beat. They try to ask for my phone number, but I always find a way to sneak off without a digit dropping. Aside from the guys, the girls are hot too. By hot, I mean bitchy and by girls, I mean whores. Some random girl threatens to kick my ass at least once during the night. By once, I mean repeatedly until I have to leave the club for fear that I will be beat like a pinata. I’m not a fighter, I’m a lover. The funny thing is, I go back every Saturday for more…

Last night at the hot dog stand we met some interesting guys…like Decker soft coat, he was wearing a cashmere coat at a club. Hmmm…lame. He preferred to be called Decker soft rod…I said “He must use a lot of lotion.” OUCH. Then, there was his loser friend who’s name I didn’t even catch, not that i wanted to know it at all. The only way to describe him is with the phrase douche bag. Then, along come some nice Air Force men. By nice, I mean idiotic and by men, I mean assholes. Well, there was one guy, Blair - the only sober one, that was very nice. His friends should have been taking notes. I guess some people are just born with class and others are not.

Another day, another dollar. Another wish left ungranted. I just hope he realizes that I’m not the kind of person who will sit around and wait for someone. I’m starting to get over the whole thing and I think he’s just starting to get into it. We’ll see if I’m still interested when the weekend rolls around.

I can picture him standing on the corner of Pine and Broadway. He checks his watch, it’s 12:10. He kicks at a loose piece of cement on the sidewalk, then a woman walks by and asks for the time. “It’s 12:15.” She thanks him and he watches her walk away. He looks up and down the street. Maybe she’s just running late, maybe she’s lost. He calls, but she doesn’t answer. “Melissa, it’s Peter. I was just calling to see what’s going on. 12 o’clock, the corner of Pine and Broadway like we agreed. I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I played the message and my stomach twisted. I’m a terrible person and I did an inexcusable thing. I feel bad, but I don’t have the balls to call and apologize. I should have called in advance and just cancelled. I should have done a lot of things, but I didn’t and now I don’t have the decency to apologize for causing another’s pain. Now it’s too late and I’m officially a jerk.

Our world will never see peace. If you think that we will, put down the joint and sober up because it’s not going to happen. That is all.

It took me about ten minutes to pull myself together enough to lay down and go to bed. I prayed to God that I would never in my life feel that way again. I couldn’t even go back and edit that last post, so excuse the poor sentence composition and spelling. I don’t want to go back and read it. So now I’m on my way to meet my dad for dinner and everything is ok again. Well, it’s ok enough to get me through tonight. I just don’t know what I’m doing right now. I feel like it’s time to pick up and move again, that’s bad cuz it’s only been 6 months. Imagine that, I’m ready to bail on my own life again. I just keep thinking that tomorrow I’ll figure it out.

I don’t want what I want to want. I want to want, long for, but I don’t. I’ve tried to force it and wait for it, but still nothing. It’s ok with me though because I don’t want it. You want me to have it, but I think I’m better off without it. For some reason I still want to want it, even though I don’t want it. I don’t want to need someone to make me feel whole. I don’t want to value someone more than I value myself and my own opinions and ideas. I don’t want to need someone to support me through thick and thin. I want to be strong enough to get myself through tough times. I don’t want someone to need me to make them feel complete. I don’t want to be someone’s crutch. I don’t want to not want kids. I don’t want to feel bad for not wanting what I feel like I should want. I don’t want what you want and have. I want everything, anything, else.

You don’t know me. You think you do, but you’re clearly wrong. They know me, he knows me, she knows me, and she definitely knows me, but you just characterize me. I told you who I am, but you formed your own opinion. I lie to you. I make up stories because you get excited over them. I lie to you about where I’ve been, who I was with, and what we were and weren’t doing. I don’t really like you, I just keep you around to boost my ego. Can you guess who you are?

Is it too late to remind you of how we were? I should have stopped you from walking out that door.

Dilemma: I can’t stop, it feels too right. I know he wants it too, but his wife might have something to say about how we make our memories together.

I’m breaking my own rules: Do what you want, when you want and how you want, as long as you don’t hurt anyone. I’m definitely hurting his wife, she just doesn’t know yet.

The way it all started is a he-said-she-said matrix of truth and lies that even Keanu Reeves can’t figure out. One thing’s true though, IT HAPPENED. I’ll deny it to save face. He’ll deny it to save me. And she’ll deny it to save Max. Max will deny it when he’s sixteen and doesn’t understand why everyone else’s mom doesn’t have their own bedroom.

You got those Jimmy Choo’s…You know when you meet someone and you just fit together? You just immediately click and know that you’re going to be friends for a long time to come. You can talk about anything, or nothing, and be completely comfortable in each other’s presence. There’s not tension or awkwardness between you, even when it’s silent. You know how that does not ever last? Eventually, they’re going to say or do something that shatters your image of them and nothing they say or do after that can fix what’s been done. Then you find yourself arguing with them or just completely avoiding them because they get on your nerves now. I don’t ever want that to happen with us. I want what we have to keep growing and as it grows, we in turn grow closer to each other. It surprises me everyday how much more we let each other in to our private lives. We’ll see where it goes, but just for now I’m enjoying our time together and anticipating the next…