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His eyes dont burn me anymore.

I looked at him, and I felt nothing. For the first time in what feels like a year, I felt nothing. I'm glad that I can say that, but there's always that little empty spot left when you officially kick a nigga to the curb. But empty isn't pain, and eventually my heart will heal.

So I guess this strong invincible bitch act is actually working out. Damn. I gotta kink in my back. Shit is irritating.

Fuckin' Ol dirty panty guy wont quit. I told him, "look, I appreciate what you're claiming to feel for me and all that, but I don't feel the same way. You have to gradually work me out of your life, because what you want cannot, and will never be." You think someone would hear that and get a damn clue. Not at all. I'm grossed the fuck out beyond belief. I hate being mean, but it's my last resort, and it ain't working.

How come niggas feel its acceptable to inquire to your sexual habits? All like, "so what do you do when you don't get any?" and "I know it gets real bad for you trying to hold it down all alone... so how do you handle that?" Dirty assholes, all they wanna know is if I touch myself so they nasty asses can imagine that shit while they jack off. GROSS. Sometimes I hate men. Ugh, dammit.

So far UC aint around. I guess thats a good thing because I'm not completely recovered from talking to him last night. I'm working it though, because although I was a little happy I'm not losing it in regards to him. It is a difficult, tedious task though, one that's never really complete. Because right when I re-convince myself of my non-special Pirhana status, he'll say something that suggests otherwise. The dumb bitch in me wants to take that and run, but I'll be damned. I've got more sense than that. Sometimes I wonder who else he's working his divine niggalicious voodoo on. Its like he actually cares what I think about him. That is so funny to me. It's cute that he's not all conceited despite all the heffas that swarm him online. He's got the nerve to be a modest guy. That's part of his magnetism, I guess. It's hard not to like someone who is as cool as him. I'm glad I'm his friend, and even more glad that I can keep myself in check while talking to him. So far, I have only embarassed myself once while talking to him, and that ain't bad considering the gigantic crush I got on this nigga. But I'm the strong and invincible bitch. I can be his friend without the excess bullshit. I'm doing a good job, and I'mma keep at it.

He's so cute though.

And his mouth is gorgeous. He's got nice hands too.

I like his clothes. I want to wear his shirts.

And his voice is so fuck-inducing. I love it when he calls me. I'd love it even more if I could feel him up. I'll probably sneak that in when I meet him. I'll be huggin his ass for no damn reason, other than to smell him and feel him up, lol. I'm a hot mess. Man, at least I know and admit it though. Thats the first step.

Although I seem to be stuck on the first step... actually I can make it about two and a half steps and I'm back to being a hot mess again. But he don't know that, so it's all gravy.