Jack’s not doing so well.  He met this girl a few weeks ago. She was pretty hot actually. Some French girl. I was pretty surprised. Happy for the guy. But I knew it wasn’t going to work. 

 So this bitch used Jack to get back at her ex-boyfriend. 

Jill really didn’t like her.

It’s so nice to have someone to cuddle with while you watch Spirited Away. I was practically cradling her.

She was like 19. Why do older guys always go for infants?

I told Jack to keep a distance.  Have fun with her. Stay in charge.  But you can’t tell a thirsty guy to stop at a shot of water. 

I couldn’t believe she came so far to see me the first time we met up. She trained through half of Manhattan in rush hour to get coffee with me for like 15 minutes.

She just wanted a place to sleep outside of her dorm where she could smoke.  

He waited for those text messages like they were orgasms. 

She couldn’t for the life of her tell the difference between your and you’re. And God did she used “lol” so much.

I mean I get the need to have a little fun. But I think Jack falls into things. 

 Jack’s always going to take it to heart. Everything’s gonna be personal to him. He just can’t take it for what their worth. 

I knew exactly what Christmas gift to get her.

I’m always watching out for that turning point.

There’s that moment when you know you’re just wasting your time. 

When you can tell they aren’t attracted to you anymore…the text messages stop coming so fast…they’re not so excited when you plan to meet up. When you know you’re no longer the priority…

That’s when I end it. It’s better to be the dumper then the dumpie. It’s all a game. If you’re not having fun, stop playing. 

I had this friend from Paris. She said there isn’t even a word for dating in French.   

It felt so good to make her laugh. She used to be so pissed when she came to see me. The train was late, her phone wasn’t working, her ex said something mean to her. But in ten minutes I had her smiling.

It’s not real. There’s no substance there. 

That’s the beauty of these little short romances. You can be whoever and you can make your partner feel as good as they need. They’re like little escapes from reality.  

She was a brat. She threw tantrums. And the way he’d sit outside with her every time she smoked. It was like he was her puppy dog. 

She visited him when he was sick. It was too sweet of her. That’s when I knew Jack wasn’t keeping her at a distance. 

She would scratch my shoulder. With her nails. Lightly. It tickled. And I like the way she smelled. I did laundry yesterday. When I got to the shirt she slept in, I considered not washing it. I smelled it again. I think the laundromat is the one place you can smell clothes and not look like a weirdo.

But you just gotta dust yourself off. Get back out there. This wasn’t some long term relationship. Turn around time should be an hour and a half. Tops.

Jack’ll wallow. He’ll blame everything on himself. “What did I do wrong?” “Why wasn’t I good enough?” He’s sensitive. He’s not built for flings. You can tell that after five minutes of talking to the guy. I mean he still does the chivalry stuff. 

You never know how to look at yourself. You wonder about your accomplishments. Did you win them because you are bad ass or because no one else showed up? Maybe the judge was pissed at the other guy for some stupid reason. Are our miracle successes indicative of our progress or mere blips of chance?

It’s not about them. It’s about you. It’s your ride. If they wanna come along, great. If not, fuck’em. Then kick them to the curb. 

“You can’t hurry love. No you just have to wait. “

I’m just so tired of starting over.

–Happy Winter Solstice. 

-Big Mack Attack

-Jack Out