� when love is a clown... and I'm a dumb kid. � 2006-06-26 � 8:17 a.m. �

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My dreams were raw.

They had both my itches in them... stumbling around like circus clowns trying to defame me.

I didn't think I could tell Blair... I didn't think he'd want to hear it... or know how to care... and then when I was turning over my laundry I thought... If I can't tell him... what am I married to him for?

I told him, Marc, that it wasn't his voice that hurt me... it was yours. It is that you can look at him that hurts me most.

For the first time in our life together, he validates me.

"You should feel that way. You should tell him you do."

Now I can't really believe my husband is telling me to have a conversation with Marc... and I can't honestly believe that he needs to be told that he hurts me.

I don't have to tell you, do I?

It's this that I struggle with...

I attract all the fucktards of the universe. says: I care that Marc was in his company at all.
P says: Yeah, that's worse.
I attract all the fucktards of the universe. says: exactly
I attract all the fucktards of the universe. says:
Isn't he suppose to love me?
P says: the number is salt in the wounds.
P says: He does.
I attract all the fucktards of the universe. says: you believe that?
P says: He's just kinda warped about it.
P says: Yeah, I do.
P says: Love doesn't exclude idiots you know.
I attract all the fucktards of the universe. says: lol it fucking should!
P says: It's not that selective.

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