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January 14, 2013

Ok, second entry of my new journal, this is like an adventure.  Anyway, I said I would talk about the pilfering of my journal, Lauren, Pete, and of course Emma.  I want to begin with Pete.  I’ve known Pete since high school gym class, kind of.  I used to skip whatever classes I could whenever I could and one day I skipped out on gym class.  I was heading back to the school before the next class just before the bell and Pete was outside smoking, so I stopped to join him.  This was freshman year about a month into school, we’d never interacted before.

He said he didn’t like showering at the school, I was like, tell me about it, it’s gay.  I literally said that.  Little did I know that 9 years later I’d find out he was gay.  But I meant it like gay as in stupid.  Lame expression, yeah but I was 14 at the time, so yeah a stupid kid.  Anyway, I liked Pete and we started hanging out.  I never once suspected he was gay.  He was just kind of the sensitive, gentle one of the group.  I’d be getting into fights and he’d be trying to break them up.  He was the most diplomatic, so I always admired that about him.

Just before Christmastime, maybe a couple weeks before Christmas, Pete came out to his parents that he was gay.  He figured since it was the season to be jolly, or the time to love everyone, his parents might be more accepting.  He was wrong and they kicked him out of the house.  Being 23 it was time he left anyway.  Doesn’t make them lesser assholes though.

Pete came to me so I told him he can stay with me.  This was after my journal was pilfered, obviously.  I already had Lauren there, I’ll talk about her and when she left my apartment at a later time.

Pete’s still with me, and it’s Monday night and the hippy girl from the rave is still here too, and I still don’t know her name.  I just call her, “sweetheart” because she’s a sweetheart.  She’s all hippy and peace and love and shit like that, so she’s unrealistic but adorable.  Hippies are optimism.  Emos are pessimism.  (Do Emos still exist?  I haven’t seen one in a while.  Maybe the goths ate them).  PUNKS JUST DON’T FUCKING CARE ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.  Hippies share their half full glass.  Emos don’t think they deserve the half empty drink and try to deny it even exists (then the goths drink it).  PUNKS SMASH THE GLASS AGAINST THE WALL AND DRINK FROM THE BOTTLE.

Whatever, back to Pete.

So Pete has been living here since about the 10th of December.  He’s kind of depressed so I haven’t asked him to leave.  He also works and is respectful and kind of quiet.  He makes enough money to contribute to the grocery bill and the utilities and to pay for his cell phone which he had to get onto my plan, so he gives me like $150 per month.  That was cool because Lauren wasn’t contributing anything more than sex, which was fine, but I’m glad she’s gone because it just started to feel real weird, yeah later about that…

Anyway about a week ago, Pete confessed that he’s always had a “crush” on me. Damn, that’s even weirder.  The conversation went like this, (ignoring the lead up to it):

“I’ve always kinda had a crush on you.”

“What??”

“I’ve always–”

“I heard you.  A crush?  What are you, 12?”

Pete giggled like a 12 year old girl.  Not really.  “Well I don’t know I just didn’t want to keep it from you anymore.  Just wanted to be honest.  Do you want me to leave?”

“Pete, man, I’ve stayed friends with girls who had it for me, it didn’t change anything, no big deal.”

“You don’t care?”

“Well yeah, I mean, I kind of like when people have a thing for me, boosts my ego.”

“So you’ll let me stay since it boosts your ego.”

“Nah, I’ll let you stay cuz we’re friends.”

“Awww that’s sweet.”  Pete said sarcastically.

“Shut up bitch.”

So yeah, it’s cool having Pete around anyway because I think he’s my stablest friend and he’s just a real nice guy.  He’s kind of a good influence on me.  He encourages me to write because he thinks I’m a good writer.  He’s also offered to help with Emma, but I’m not ready yet.  I can’t go after her until I think I’m worthwhile enough for her.  I can’t be this sleazy, lazy, irresponsible, alcoholic, drug addict that I’ve become.  She’s a lady and she deserves more than I can offer at this time.  But I’ll change things, not just for her but for myself.  I can’t be like this forever or I’ll die before I reach 30.  I’m not checking out like James Dean, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, or Kurt Cobain who cheated because he didn’t have a J in his name (though he probably smoked one just before he blew his head off).  But I just need to figure out how to make things change because right now I have no fucking clue how to go about it.