the home team.

There's this book called Love in the Time of Cholera. Very popular book. I love this book. I used to take certain aspects of this book and say, "Now that's what true love is." Now I remember this book and think, "If that's true love, I don't know if I've got it in me to wait."

I don't think people understand what it's like to know true love exists, but that it's not meant for everyone. And then I say, "I'm one of those people. True love is out there, just not for me." They scoff, roll their eyes. They tell me I'm just being stupid.

But I'm not. I'm not being stupid. The good girls, they always go for the bad guys that make like they're good guys. Here's a tip: If he says "I'm a nice guy" then he's not a nice guy. Nice guys? They don't have to say it. But the joke's on me, because it never mattered.

(Someone remind me to finish the story titled "twelve/twenty-one.")

I've been told that my prior post caused hearts to drop into stomachs. Well, that's not my fault. Sounds like a problem with your ticker, not mine. Which brings me to my introduction.

When I say I don't have a problem with my ticker I am lying. This is a conscious lie. I have premature ventricular contractions. My doctor says it's nothing to worry about. I had an echocardiogram on Valentine's Day and the tech said my heart looked normal. Two things are of importance here:

1) The irony that I spent all of Valentine's Day worrying if I had a disease that could conceivably cause my heart to cease beating did not escape me.

2) When I started getting information on cardiologists to get a second opinion, I kinda wondered if I wanted my heart to be completely fucked. Because to be honest sometimes I get really tired of fucking around with life.

So back to the echocardiogram. I didn't tell many people because I didn't want people to worry. Granted, I'm starting to think some people just don't give a damn. So I think maybe I should start telling people I'm going to die. It's a win-win situation for me at that point. Either people are sad and give me lots of sex and money...or I die.

Win.

Win.

Root for the home team.