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My International Man of Mystery, aka, Mr. Jamaica is dead and gone. Not actually dead, dead. Just dead as in the thought of having, pursuing a maybe relationship with him. It was a nice month of being adored though. I appreciated the beautiful words he spoke. But that was all he was, words. And then he started going AWOL and I knew the tide had come in. I knew there was something in the air and he was not giving up the truth, even though I flat out asked him. And the truth came in the form of breasts and a vagina. Eh? Whatta ya gonna do? You can’t fight city hall…lol.

Thank God there was no real investment in that future. We can still be friends, if he can grow the hell up. What is it about men and wanting to keep crazy women in their lives, or leaving their wives for the crazy chicks??? And then want to complain about the crazy chicks! You chose her, stupid! Now own it! With pride, dummy! I found out through a friend what was the deal, even though I really already knew. I just needed to find out the truth on my own because I knew he wasn’t gonna tell me.

So! I am 0-3 in the man department. No husband, no married lover and no International Man of Mystery. I should just throw in the towel of life and go into the country somewhere in Eastern Europe and raise llamas. They spit at you, but at least they stay around, SHEESH!

Here are my options:

1. become a bitter alcoholic
2. become a bitter drug addict
3. become a bitter slut-bag (sex for free)
4. become a bitter prostitute (sex for $)
5. become a bitter nun
6. become a bitter dominatrix
7. become a bitter llama farmer
8. rescue cats and dogs and have them learn and perform the choreography to West Side Story (bitterly)
9. become a lesbian? (naw!)
10. create an army of bitter were-rabbits and try to take over the world!

Ah well! Looks like my life is just taking a spin on the ole, wheel o’ shit again. LOL! But at least this time, I am not a blubbering mess of tears and emotions and hurt and pain. I can actually laugh at this situation and not have to pray over myself to get over it. I can just say, it’s cool. If it wasn’t meant to be, then it ain’t gonna be and actually believe it. But I will pray over him, that he finds himself again. And that he finds the one that he really wants to be with and can actually break free from his bondage with the crazy chick. I am so unbelievably mature, aren’t I? LOL!!!!!! Whatever.

I can’t tell if these are my words or the Melatonin’s words. Good night everybody!

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