My boyfriend and I;

literally get in the stupidest fights in the world. For instance, todays fight, will be archived as “T3’s or grow up!”

Ty. calls me and asks me if I could call the dentist to find out when his appointment is tommorow. I do so and also inquire about what kind of pain killers he will be on. T3’s you say?

My mind races back to a pre-chicago boyfriend who used to get stoned off these… Hmmm..

Bad-Ass A-Dub comes strolling out. I press re-dial to my boyfriends work. I non-bothersome inform him of his time and drug of choice and then slid in that maybe I could have a hook up to some t3s’ too.

He hangs up on me.

(Deep down, I wouldn’t have even touched them, I think I was looking for a fight. I’m not one for drugs!)

I stare at the phone and shrug. Oh well, it was worth a shot. I’m back to my ever-go-happy self. La, La, La. Dance around my bedroom in my panties…

ka-boom. I get an e-mail from Mister. Shit On Life.

Why i act lame? why cant you use your head. Im not hear to chat with you all willy nilly whenever you get bored. Im working. And to ask me if you can get high off my pills…you a little pill popping teen now? Grow up, they are given to me for a reason. Im gonna be in fucking pain.

I know, right? JERK!

As if. Oh well, I still love him.

Good Girl A-Dub

ps: I may have sent this e-mail first:

why u gotta act so lame?
peace. im going out with my friends.
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