I'm fraudulent, a thief at best.

Chapter One:

So, I had this dinner date thing and the guy had the nerve to show up 30 some minutes late. Total tool. He was all like "There was traffic blah blah blah." And since it was too awkward for me to just get up and leave, we ordered food and I did my best to pretend like I had something in common with him. And to top it all off, he talked about pussy the ENTIRE time!

Of course, I am only kidding.

I spent most of Wednesday morning nervously anticipating the evening. I paced back and forth and prepared myself for the possibility of being stood up, which in all honesty, wouldn't have been a complete shock given my misfortunes in the past. I smoked too many cigarettes and convinced myself that this particular person wasn't going to show (he was late and it's completely understandable) and I would have to suffer the humiliation that comes with realizing you're not that great after all.

"Table for one?"
"Um...I'm actually meeting someone."
"Oh...okay."

Aside from being stood up, awkward silence was my biggest fear. But, to my surprise, silence was never an issue. No topics were off limits, but probably should have been seeing that we were constantly surrounded by children, which actually made things funnier. Did I mention everything was funny? Because it was.

"What's wrong with you? You're so...happy."
"I know. Its strange for me, too."

End of Chapter One

Today is, of course, another story. I want nothing more than to run across the highway and hope for the worst. Though this is a common urge of mine, it seems much stronger today. I'm finding it more and more difficult to willingly compromise myself and I certainly can no longer justify the mess I have become. I also fear that I'm becoming a mean person. I'm not comfortable with this and I wish I could apologize to everyone I've neglected to appreciate.

Poison is poison, right? Right.

I leave for Texas in a few days, which means I should get my suitcase out of the backseat of my car. I keep it there in case I ever get the urge to travel the highways to somewhere new. This urge is as deep as the one where I want to get hit by a fucking car.

It's Friday night. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.