Inside Bad, Outside Bitchy.

I just found out this evening that Billy Bob, or whatever his code name was, is flying out to meet his new girlfriend's parents sometime soon. And that she will be moving to wonderful Cleveland in April or May.

When I was in elementary school, one summer Kris and I were playing soccer in her backyard with some of the neighbor kids. Soccer is what drove us apart in fourth grade, (she was into sports and I was not at all...) but for some reason I had agreed to be goalie for this one game. All I remember is that Kris kicked the ball towards me, and it came directly in contact with my stomach and I got the wind knocked out of me. Then there was that shocked feeling that drove through your whole body, and the sickly feeling at the pit of your stomach.

I feel the same way right now. Like he took a running punch at my stomach.

Why did I have to become the punching bag?