HEART STRINGS...

well, to much of anything else.
I knew this when I drove out to his place in the woods. I just didn't want to believe it. Because I pretended I did believe it, and I didn't. And now I have to believe it. And I still can't quite do it.
There is some part of me that is still convinced that if I feel the way I do, he can't care as little as he so obviously does. This sounds like every country-western song ever written for a female singer... and as long as the joke is on someone else, it's funny: "Feeling single and seeing double can get you into a whole lot of trouble..."

The Passion of the Inner Girl?
The Abject Humiliation of the Inner Girl?
In any case, the picture is far from pretty. And I am stuck with the truth whether I want to take it on board or not.
So: why did I think it work out my way?
Let's just say that I did, and it didn't.
Me quedo chingado. I'm fucked.
But then, nobody told me it was going to be easy.
One day at a time.
The pig is still in [deep] shit, he just isn't particularly happy about it any more...
Well, we all have to grow up sometime. I seem to remember hearing something about the assymetry of love relationships somewhere... Maybe I'll have another one of those sober moments one of these days, when I realize that, as someone with a few more wits said, "It was going to be good one way or the other. I really believed that. I still do, because it was." It will still take me a while to work the hooks out, of course, and by that time my Inner Girl may have matured a bit.
I can't help suspecting that too much "maturity" is what turns that Inner Girl into the Bitch Goddess we all know so well...
though I do hope I'm wrong on that one...
.
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