Fuck It

I usually can't stand talking to my ex because most of the time it's like talking to a brick wall. But tonight, there's definitely hope for him. Essentially, he was supposed to have a mental breakdown a week ago. Working 70-80 hours a week at one job, plus school, and a hectic social life, he's running himself ragged, but he doesn't know that he needs to stop. I told him today that he needs to figure shit out and start deconstructing and setting limits and taking "him" time. He said that he's working on it, but he's trying to plan ahead.

My response was a story of how my love life tends to go.

I date a lot of people. We go out, have dinner, watch a movie, talk. Most of the time, that's where it ends. When a guy comes around who just absolutely blows me away, I dive head first. I just think to myself, fuck your reserves, give him everything and see what happens. Usually, it results in a pint of Chubby Hubby, a romance movie marathon, lots of crying, ending in a stint at the gym that would make most people want to die. Then I get back on the horse and do it again. This "Just fuck it" mentality results in a shitton of pain and heartache. But I'm convinced that when it finally works out, it's going to be fantastic. So I'm waiting.

We'll see what happens. Here's hoping he realizes that there's life to live. And here's hoping I'll find the guy who's gonna give me the little things I want in a relationship. And until then, Ben and Jerry's will continue to thrive as long as Chubby Hubby is produced.