Wasted Magic

"I look at you and I see magic...wasted magic."

WTF?

The next time someone sees me getting involved with a man, I want you to take a GIANT hammer and hit me on the head. It's not bad enough that I made the mistake of getting involved with D. whom I've known for way too long. Not bad enough that, in spite of my head telling me to stay the hell away from him, my heart went charging over the border like the fucking Russian army; and it's not bad enough that the more he realizes how much I cared for him, the meaner he seems to get - a la "I don't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member." No, none of that was enough. I don't feel shitty enough. Please, Ike, hit me again, and this time, put some fucking STANK on it!
Now I have to listen to B. tell me I ruined his deployment. What?! You mean the war wasn't enough to ruin it? Apparently, I am "wasted magic" because I don't want to be with him.

I'm tired. I'm WAY too tired of men, of mankind in general. These fragile fucking egos, all this emotional bullshit, yet when you care about a man in any way, he rolls up like an armadillo. FUCK THAT!

I'm getting another dog.