Girls = trouble, but stupid girls = uh oh.

Allergy season has made me realize that the only authentic Chinese thing I have left is an obnoxious sneeze.

Trolley’s Homestar Runner figures came in the mail a little while ago. They Rock.

And little Lego stormtroopers rock too.

If there was ever a time for John to put a contract on me, it would be now. Due to an unfortunate incident, he’s had to liquidate everything he has, take out tuition insurance, and assume a non-managerial position at Canadian Tire so that he doesn’t have too much money.

This is the guy who got accepted to UCC, got accepted to University College at the University of Toronto, finished his LSATs, and is waiting to get accepted to a law school. I also put his name down as the beneficiary on my assurance plan at work, so he’ll be receiving roughly $__k in the event of my death. I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell him, since I wouldn’t put a contract murder past him, but I figured that I couldn’t trust ANYONE in the world if I couldn’t trust him.

“I won’t whack you, no matter how much sense it seems to make”, he reassures me.

The two longest relationships I’ve ever been in, both bordering on the two-year mark, were meaningless. I learned a great deal from them, making them great experiences, but in all truth, that can be said about any of the relationships I’ve had.

My shortest relationship, which never even got into the three month range (and also happened to be with the only girl to break up with me), was the most meaningful.

And toxic.

I shouldn’t have been in that relationship, and I knew it. It was unhealthy, it was destructive, it was painful. Yet I kept going. I kept apologizing instead of accusing, I kept storming without releasing. Was I weak? Perhaps. Was I in love? More likely.

But I was scared most of all.

Scared of giving up a chance for happiness, scared of forever wondering, “what if?”. With lack of choice comes freedom from regret. It took more strength to push on, knowing that it wouldn’t last, than it would have taken to end it myself.

It wasn’t weakness. It was determination. It was an attempt at perseverance. It was an attempt at stoic resignation. I knew she was going to end it.

Because I never would.