Which... doesnt mean theres anything BIG im going to write about today. I've making lotsa money lately. Selling stuff on Ebay and listing stuff for my dad. I clean alot, not that you can ever fucking tell. Me and my mom are back on good terms. Its more like, dont ask dont tell? I guess? ANYWAYS!
I'm writing today, because well.. My best friend, my sister, and my mom didnt answer their phones. So. This is longer, but its still venting. Which, I guess its not really something any of you will understand. My best friends dads in the Marines, so she just doesnt see where I'm coming from whatsoever. My sister has dated a guy in the military so, we know she doesnt have the same strange, but forced rule I have. [ No offense Jess!] no, seriously. Dont take that wrong. haha. And my mother, well. She was last resort. Not gonna lie.
So, here it is...
I go by this, wait. I LIVE by this rule. Since I can remember? I know at least for 5 years I've been saying it. I've told every past boyfriend this rule. And trust me, Brandon knows this "rule" I DO NOT, AND WILL NEVER DATE A GUY IN THE MILITARY. I just wont. Dont take me wrong, im all for supporting the troops, and bringing home the soldiers. I will never marry a guy who is in, nor wants to join the military. Don't care if its army, navy or air force. Not happening. Some people think its selfish of me. Well. its just like someone saying " I wont date a guy with blonde hair" or " I wont date a guy who eats meat" Its just something on the imaginary list every girl has of what there looking for. Shit, I'm getting side tracked.
So, ugh. long story short Hans, use to be my best friend. Turned into cocky, spoiled brat. Stopped being friends. [ he dropped brandon as a friend also! THIS IS A KEY POINT. Anyways, he joined the marines. [ he will never admit it, but he was so fucking spoiled that he hated working. literally, bitched for hours to his mom that he didnt feel like he needed to work. So, he found out, Government pays you to workout and fly on a plane for a few hours and then GO STAND IN A FUCKING DESERT TO GET SHOT AT AND PLAY DODGEBALL WITH BULLETS. Needless to say, he joined. Being deployed in December. well, the Marines and other military people do PT. PT is Physical Training. Voluntary, workouts to get you in shape. blah blah blah. You can bring friends too. [ They tell them this, so the recruiters can get out there with them, and drill the friends who havent join about joining!] Well, Hans found out that when you bring a friend in to let a recruiter lecture them for an hour he gets an extra 1000 dollars at the end of the year added to his big ole check! So, He drags Brandon in there! No problem. Brandon doesnt want to join. Then, He invites brandon to PT with him. No problem. Its working out with friends. [ Brandon got approached by recruiters there also.] Everything was fine. I was a little edgy because I don't want to lose Brandon. But, regardless of the two years we've been together. If he ever signed that form. His shit would be out front in less time it would take him to drive home from best buy in Annapolis. [ recruiters office is by best buy] ANYWAYS. I was letting it go. Until today. Hans texted Brandon at around 9 this morning asking if he was up. He didnt get up until 11. So, when he did wake up, he responded. Thats when he did it. Hans crossed the fucking very, very, very thin [ thinner than paper] line with me. He texted brandon that the sergent blah blah wanted him to come in today, so they could talk. Brandon I guess could see the anger flood my face. He told him no.
I don't like thinking, talking, hearing, texting, typing, dreaming, about this situation. It does something to me. Its like a touchy thing with me. But its not? Like, here. This is my best semi good attempt of what it does:
It makes me RIP, not tug, pull or pick at. It makes me literally RIP my eyebrows off little by little.
It makes me want to take this bottle of wine, go have me some blankets, a fully charged phone, flashlight, camera, and a beach chair and sit somewhere. And drink, and not think about it. BUT! I wont! Because I dont want to ignore my problems with alcohol hahahha
I think it scares me more, that I will lose Brandon from this. Than, the thought that I really would MELTDOWN if we went seperate ways just because of Hans and recruiters. aka phaggot salesmen.
On a brighter, positive, amazing to think about thought!
In 18 days, It will be two years since Brandon asked me out. :)
We fight alot, argue over shit, call each other names, say we hate each other, and the occasional gum in the hair. we love each other :)
Well. Hope you enjoyed wasting your time reading this. hahahaha
if not. fuck you. =] <3
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