Hi Chris.

When I began a journal online, SBS and I had a conversation about baring our souls to whomever may be reading. Usually, most of what I reveal is within reason... I don't just let go and tell it like it is.

Here it is, like it should be:

I don't understand men. I don't understand why they can have all the fun they want with me, and, metaphorically, or literally speaking, crawl into bed with their girlfriend at night. Where did my stereotype of being the "lover" come into play? Why am I the girl to have a fling with, a short little rendezvous, the ongoing affair? I say I want a boyfriend, and I do. I want a boyfriend so I can stop the trend of being the side dish. I want to be the fucking entree. Let me be the cocky bitch who admits that she knows men fall at her feet. Let me be the cocky bitch who is tired of them being "taken" men.

You know what? I am to nice. Way to nice.

Why did you bother coming?

You said I'm good at questions - why lead me on with words, and never follow through with actions?

Did you feel like you needed to tell me in person?

Why should I care? You just proved your like all the others. I'm so dissapointed.

I'll be waiting for an email.