Friends, schmends

So I did it. I took life by the horns, looked into the abyss, swallowed my pride, reached out and touched the face of . . . rejection. Yep. Rejection. Bruno turned me down, he ‘just wants to be friends’ and that’s okay. Really. No, it is, I promise. Because the deal was that I actually do something and tell him that I liked him, regardless of the outcome. It was almost more about me not letting life idly pass me by and taking a chance then it was about a potential boyfriend. That being said, it still sucks that the mutual three month Flirt-a-thon went nowhere.
The only problem with 'just being friends' is that I already have That Guy in my life, the guy that I liked for a really really really long time who only wanted to be friends, and its taken me almost four years to get to the stage where I actually do count him as a friend. Four long crazy tears on my pillow miserable freaking years. I don’t need another one of them - seriously I don't and my poor The Shoulders That I Cry On, I mean my friends, don't need me to have another one of them either.
So I said adios to Bruno. Sayonara dude.
And its for the best really, because I know me. If we meet up for a friendly coffee, I’ll read a ridiculous amount into every little thing he says, every glance will be dripping with meaning in my little crush addled mind and I’ll drive myself and everyone around me FUCKING INSANE. I’ll be like one of those little white yappy dogs, constantly chasing my own tail and getting nowhere and generally annoying the living SHIT out of people. So as much as I will miss him, he has been wiped from my mobile and email account, the better to not accidentally maybe just send him one tiny little email and if he replies well it totally must mean he misses me and is rethinking this whole friends thing, right?
No. There will be none of that.
What there will be is moving on-ness. Besides, I like to think that when Life gives you lemons, you should just squeeze some juice into that bitch’s eyes and when she’s on the ground yelping in citrus-y pain, kick Life in the ribs until she cries Uncle.
Heh heh.
Buh-bye Bruno. Next.