1. A disease, a disorder, or an ailment.
2. An unwholesome condition: the malady of discontent.
Different...
Bobby said this: "i thought our relationship was committed, founded on learning from each other, rounding our personalities, sharing our strengths, getting out of our parents' places, splitting the rent and frequently doing it. and blending ourselves together, interlocking more than physically. for example, i'm smart, whereas she's smart and attractive; i'm creative, whereas she's creative and able to keep a job; i'm funny, whereas she's much, much funnier. don't you see how we create a superperson?"
That how I want mine and Kelly's relationship to be. Minus the past tense of Bobby's.
I don't listen well. While someone is talking... I'm sitting there thinking of what I can say to make myself right. So I'm half-listening... so I can at least respond with something half related to whatever they're talking about. I do that with Kelly. She says I play The Victim. Okay. Yeah. I guess I do. I apologize for everything... I mean, everything. Then I get frustrated... and cry. Then I get frustrated for crying... and just quit talking about whatever I was talking about all together. She wants me to be strong. She wants me to be tough. She wants me to go, "Grrr!" and say, "I can do this!" and, "Quit being an asshole." I always comment on how different we are... and how we were bought up in dissimilar manners. And she tells me, "We'll always have been bought up in different homes. We'll hopefully always be learning about each other... day by day. Just quit saying it over and over and over." She hates it when I say "day by day" I guess. Sounds like a drama-filled soap opera.
So I have to learn to change. Think differently towards her. Not just for her... for us. But. With change comes compromise. I do not think I'll ever get used to her sarcastic humor. She may make a comment... and I'll take it as insulting when really she's just kidding around. I hate them.... I hate those goddamn comments so goddamn much. And I know they shouldn't hurt... but they do. They do. Example: Lighting her cigarette. "Damn, baby. I'd like to keep my eyebrows." Yeah, she's just kidding around. No harm done. No problem. It's cool. But in my head... I wasn't paying attention. I did something wrong. And she made a harsh comment about it. I know... I know!! Stupid and trivial, huh? But that was just an example. I have to learn to quit being so sensitive... and she needs to learn to be moreso. Make sense? I thought so. I hope so...
In other news.... Twelve days until I am twenty. Anyone wanna buy me a gold membership? I'll love you FOREVER... I swear it! So so so so broke. Moving. New Orleans. Get a job. Getting back on meds. Car insurance... Ohmygawd... car insurance. Still covered... But I owe so so so much money.
Woke up with a minor hangover this morning. Drinking with Kelly, Debra, and Natalie. Drinking games. Mini dogs. Steak. Beer. Orange vodka. Red, blotchy face. Vicks. Cigarettes. Spinning. Spades. Jacks. Dice. Double idiot. Skyy. In bed. Talking. Crying. Sleep. Alarm. Shiiiiit.
That was last night. Whoop-ee. Ta.