Idiot Slow Down

I’m a fool. It’s just as plain and simple as that, and this weekend’s catastrophes are a perfect example of how naïve I really am. My downward spiral begins with the Columbian, who has quickly turned himself from one of my favorite people on the planet to my greatest enemy. I liked him so much until I found out the truth. The bastard is married with a small child at home.

I couldn’t believe how exquisitely, he’s lied to me over the last few months, and how I got involved with him more than I should have because he failed to mention such a colossal part of his life. I never thought in a million years that something like this would happen to me. How did I get involved in someone else’s adultery? How did I unknowingly become that other woman that everyone despises? After his confession, all I kept thinking about was his poor wife and how she will never know the truth because he will never tell her. However, perhaps it’s better not to know, because knowing certainly hasn’t made me feel any better or made me any wiser. I feel like more of a fool than ever, and I just don’t see a way to make all of this right.

As if his confession wasn’t enough, the Columbian had the audacity to ask if we could still be friends and continue to dance with one another. At this point, I was speechless. I simply could not absorb so much bullshit all at the same time. If the basis of friendship is trust, how can I possibly accept him as a friend considering how maliciously he deceived me? So, I told him that I never wanted to see him again, and thankfully he accepted after insisting that I take one of his necklaces with me to remember him by (so corny). So now I have this hideous bamboo necklace of shame sitting in my room that still smells like him. He’s a clever chap because every time I sniff the necklace I miss him, but there is no amount of me missing him that would ever make me want to see him again.

As if I didn’t have enough on my mind the very next day while at salsa practice, my salsa teammates and I were trying out a new type of lift where the girl flips over the guy's shoulders. Well while practicing the move, I accidentally get dropped directly on the crown of my head and scared a whole lot of people including myself senseless. When I got home my mother was so insisted that I go to the hospital that it was frightening. She said that you just never know with head injuries. You could go to sleep and never wake up, and my first thought was, “Wouldn’t that be nice.” Until that moment, I had no idea that I was so upset about the Columbian that death didn’t sound so bad. I’d put on such a good front of apparent happiness for everyone else that I think that I actually convinced myself that his confession didn’t really matter to me, that it didn’t even ruffle my feathers. Hell, I’m so ruffled that I find myself forgetting to eat, and when I do eat, I mistakenly eat 5 day old sandwiches that are bond to give me some time of parasite. I manage to keep a gleaming smile on my face, but the reality is that I’m a mess. I need to slow down. I’ve been running so fast, and this girl is just not meant for such high speeds.