At work: Am I doing this wrong?
In life: Am I making the right choices?
With humans: His name isn't 'Ted' is it?
In your own version of "Fatal Attraction": Is this your girlfriend?
So why ask? (See what I just did there... I asked a question I wouldn't like the answer to). Because of the pain. Pain is so intoxicating. It's so reaffirming in all the wrong ways. It's kind of like a drug that doesn't make you immediately happy and doesn't make you immediately worse off. It just sort of lingers until it adds up. And then it all adds up at the most inconvenient time... like when you're driving and the freeway you've been taking for the last year suddenly becomes unfamiliar. You can't remember if "Disney Way" is an exit you've seen before, let alone the one you need to get off at. Suddenly, the only important things are the answers to those questions. They've been shelved away in a special filing folder labeled "Well Fuck Me!"...
YES you did do that wrong!
NO those are the WRONG choices to make!
THAT'S 'Steve' you dumb ass!
OF COURSE she's my girlfriend!
And boom. Seventeen miles later on godknowswhat interstate, you're feeling it... really feeling it.
But then you take matters into your own hands. You de-friend a few fauxs on facebook (see the pun), clean up your cyberworld, make your bed, buy new shoes at a discounted price and remember that all drugs wear off. But a self pittying tear never hurt anyone.
And that's all.
