Oh, the drama: mixed signals, varying shades of advice from every corner and from every angle, lingering doubts, and lingering suspicions. Sometimes, man…
At some point, something’s gotta give. It’s just like Carlos always says, “Sometimes you get the bear, and sometimes that fucking bear…he gets you.” What’s the score at now, anyway? I think the bear’s up to 10,487. I’m at 23. Well, I’m tired of being wistful and I’m tired of feeling pathetic. I still think something’s up, but that could be the vanity talking…maybe it’s paranoia or even intuition. Regardless, I’m done making a fool out of myself. Call it defeated humility or a tragic case of pridefulness, or call it anything else that comes to mind. That doesn’t mean she and I still can’t be great friends, because I think we already are, and I hope to stay that way for a long time. I’m just done with leading myself on. Only a fool breaks his own heart, you know? I think it’s bear hunting season. Relax, I’m not talking about you, Santa Bear.