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I’m sure half the reason I’m writing this is because of delirium, seeing as how I’m sick as hell, especially because that’s the way my body rolls lately. There’s no happy medium. I’m either completely fine or I feel like I should be bedridden. I’m good to go one minute, then within five minutes I’m about to piss myself. I’m not hungry, and then ten minutes later I’m playing in the dirt while Santa Claus Jr is asking you to sponsor me for just ten little pennies a day. It’s like I can’t just be ‘okay’. I told my mom it’s because I’m old now. She just laughed, but I’m serious. I hit all the traditional milestones before most people. I was walking talking eating people food before more babies. I was reading while I was being potty trained. I was getting my braces taken off my fully developed adult teeth when half my class was still waiting for their baby teeth to fall out. I was physically capable of bearing children before my age hit double digits. In a general physical sense, I’ve been several years ahead of most people my age most of my life. Soooo…. I’m really about 60 by now.

Anyway, I digress. I came here to whine-rant-bitch about That Dude. You know the one. E.A. And I don’t mean Electronic Arts. That EA and I have been having issues since 2000 or so. This E.A. and I… It’s just a mess. Someone once asked me why I let him get away with treating me like shit for so long. But that’s the problem. He DIDN’T treat me like shit. Never, not one time (except, of course, our last ‘meeting’ where he ruined everything), did he treat me any less than the way he should have. He was an asshole, sure, I know that, I’d be lying to everyone and myself if I said he wasn’t. But I knew he was an asshole from the beginning, so it’s not like I never knew what to expect from him, but that’s just it. As much of an asshole as he was, he was just as much not an asshole. There was always that underlying nice guy. You just had to know how to find him. And I did.

We always talked about stuff. It wasn’t just random hook-ups now and then. We actually discussed things. He was always there when I needed someone to talk to. In fact, he’s one of the only people I felt safe enough to during my downward spiral last year, while also being one of the few people who reached out to catch me. He always told me he was there if I needed him, and I trusted him with that. And I always knew where we stood with each other. It wasn’t like other guys, say, Mike, where I never knew what was going on, where one night he’s hugging me, holding me, kissing my forehead, my temple, but then the next day he’s telling my friend he’s not into me and doesn’t understand why I think he is. No, E was always constant. There were no ups and downs, no back and forth bullshit, it was just him and it was just me. We had fun together.

We argued a lot, but it was usually over the most petty and ridiculous things. Like the 6-hour heated discussion over the correct spelling of “touché”, that ended when I finally got access to a dictionary. Like what color my underwear were one day (they weren’t purple, they were clearly violet). What channel is TBS (which remains unsolved because I was arguing with DirecTV standards and he was on Dish Network or something)? Most people thought that to be a sign that we didn’t get along, but I highly disagree. I think the more stupid, asinine, sibling-esque arguments you get into with someone, the more passion you have for them. (This is not, however, to be confused with drag-out fights about things like, who were you with, whose fucking panties are these in our couch, I don’t care if your mother is dying I want you to stay home. Those are fights most likely best solved by breaking up.)

The worst part about all this? There really could have been something there. Maybe not next month or even next year, but someday. He just had to grow up, and I just had to shake my commitmentphobia. After that, things could have been all good. But no. He ruined everything in August, and I’m done. No amount of growing up on his part can fix things. However, let’s face it, in a month or so from now, if he calls me, chances are I’ll have cooled off enough to give him a quick reunion, but he’s never gonna be right with me again. And that makes me sad. As picky and set in my ways as I am, finding someone who would fit is an amazing thing. He could have been it. I read somewhere that if you make a list of all the things that would turn you off a guy, and when you meet someone, if he has a bunch of things on that list but you still like him, he’s a keeper. Well, E met most of the requirements in the ‘want’ column, and had at least 2 from the ‘don’t want’ column, but I didn’t even mind. One of them was a habit I could have broken him from over time, and the other was something he recently grew out of. There you go.

But … he killed it. Whatever we could have had. Gone. Sucks to be him.

Anyway, I’m going to bed now, since I’m old and all. It’s only 9:42, but, yeah, it’s about that time. Gotta be in top shape for work and the game tomorrow. Do you know how hard it is to watch a Bills game and do work at the same time? Especially when I’m supervising at least 4 or 5 guys who I’m gonna have to make sure are doing their work?