“Who is Boston Paul? Yes, I do know his name and address. I know his screen name and his responses to the things I say, but who is he? I only know him in the context I present him with. I’m curious if I could watch him interact with others without him knowing I was around he’d be different. No one is really that..So…I cannot think of an adjective. Just so… Boston Paul. I hope he’s in the dictionary.” -a girl

I am in the dictionary, but “fucking asshole” is two words. I don’t know. Lately, I have been thinking about where I am and how I got here. I feel like if I turned around, I would see the ruins left behind by a tornado. I’m so fucking selfish that it makes me sick to my stomach. I used to think I was a good friend, and just a shitty boyfriend, but I realize now that I am bad at all of it. I simply let everyone down in the end. In romantic relationships, when I realize they’ve run their course, I hang around and wait to get out of it without being the asshole. Instead of manning up and saying, “This isn’t working for me” I pussy out because I guess I have a pathological need to not be hated. When it comes to friendships, I just let them wither away until they are gone. I make excuses and blame everyone else when in reality it’s my own damn fault. I wrote something a while ago blaming a girl for the way our friendship deteriorated, but it was me. There was a guy she really disliked and warned me about and told me not to talk to him. Did I listen? No. Why? It’s simple. I’m selfish. I knew certain things about this girl didn’t add up, and I wanted to be vindicated. I should have just accepted her personality quirks and let it be. Instead, I shared notes with the guy and was so happy that I had found out the truth. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t really fair to him either. I didn’t really think he was the monster he was made out to be. He was just an honest person and expected honesty in return. I suppose that’s what made him seem crazy. When you live a lie as long as I have, honesty seems like a completely insane notion.

Who am I to judge anyone, least of all her? She had wanted to come out to Boston or have me go out to Michigan to meet in person. I made up excuses and avoided the topic because the reality is, I had a girlfriend for the entire time we were talking, and I couldn’t exactly disappear for a week or have some random girl from Michigan sleeping at my house without my girl finding out. The sad part is there was a part of me that wanted to leave my girl and see where this new thing would go. Deep down, I think I knew it would have been a disaster. I would either have fucked her over, or she would have used me as her next launching pad. In the end, that’s why I never met her. I don’t trust people, and I never give people a chance. I suppose that’s why I get out of bed at 4:58am and look through old messages on myspace and write shit like this. Something about me will never let me be happy.