I'm becoming a freakin' nun. Yeah, I'm not religious, I've only been baptized Catholic, but it's time to become a nun.
I don't gossip. I don't talk about my love life. (Because I don't have one.)
I have mentioned there is a guy, who I am attracted too, who would make a good friend, if he wasn't just so hot and frellin' cute.
Yeah, well that guy? Has problems with his girlfriend.
Or as he says it, "[They're] divorced."
And I didn't say this to his face, but seriously? Shut up.
His problems are more the kind that are fabricated and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong. They still like each other. But he's a babbling idiot and can't keep his mouth shut about their relationship problems.
He tells me EVERYTHIING, then says he doesn't want to tell anyone else, and THEN tells two other people, who then formed our little troupe of watching "The DB Show." (His initials are DB. Yeah, I know. It's not David Boreanaz.)
So we listen to him dissect all his relationship problems, all of the girls who dumped him. I tell my two classics, the guy that was crazy and asked me out and then got fired and I never got his number, and the prom story, which I added in my suspicious that he was messing around with this other girl (a cute, young blonde vs. me? there's no contest, even if I asked him to my prom). However, I've never been able to prove if he was going after her. I do know that he was not interested in me. That pain still hurts to this day.
I fucking hate crushes. I hate that I have to become their friends or that I have to listen to their bullshit.
I hate that I had to help him with his girlfriend drama because I really hate that bitch.
I'm a sucker, a patsy, a loser, and I suck.
Yeah, maybe I should get me to a nunnery.