Innocence is The Disguise

I put on my sunglasses, to hide my swollen eyes, over my tears. I cried all my makeup off. Went inside to have a milkshake. I don’t know why. I wanted something to drink as I figured out what I would do. I got a soda and a milkshake. Medium. The cashier looked at me and with a line around the corner of the counter he rushed away from the counter “Hold on “ he yelled to a coworker.

I filled my soda and went back and saw him looking all over. I go up and he gets close and says “I made it a large”.

That was seriously enough for me not to do it. His kindness. Someone went out of their way and as I went back in my car to cry I realized I could muster through a few other days. A few more weeks. Then I came down from that panicky high of anxiety, depression, and pain. I finished my shake. And it was enough time to let me feel better. I… I’m alive. I’ll make it through.

Try and be nice today. Tomorrow. Something as much as a smile. It helped so much.

Thank you man at McDonalds.

They’re now married, with a beautiful four year old son and a daughter who is due within the next 4 days.

So I like hot stuff. I’m not like, a dick about it. I don’t brag because there are people out there that can handle waaaay hotter foods than me. It’s not a competition. So I’m at Tijuana Flats, a “mexican” food restaurant chain famous for their hot sauce bar. All in all, what they put out on the bar isn’t the spiciest stuff in the world, but you’ll find some delicious gems in there. I immediately look at whatever is marked black as hottest for the day (they change them) and immediately go to pump some into the little paper containers provided when… “Whooaaa, sweetheart you don’t want to do that,” I turned around and there’s this skinny guy in jeans and a logo polo. There’s another dude wearing the same shirt, so they must have come here from some sad IT job. I’m a little taken aback at this dude’s presumption that I am ignorant to what I’m doing, but I blow it off. ”Nah, man, it’s got the black label, I haven’t tried this one yet.” ”Are you sure? It’s really spicy.”  ”I’m pretty sure dude.” ”I don’t think you should, because it was a bit much for me.” At this point I’m feeling patronized. I stare at him.  “It’s fine. Really.” “Oooookay,” He says in this exasperated, don’t-say-I-didn’t-warn-you kind of voice. I get my hot sauce and sit down. Food arrives, I taste it with a chip first to test. It’s super sweet, actually. I dump the whole thing on my taco. I don’t know if he’s watching.  I go up to the counter and ask the manager to ring me up a bottle of the sauce to take home. It was pretty delicious! Manager says he’ll bring it to my table. They bring it, I pay, and the server asks if I’m into hot sauces - of course I say yes. Hot Sauce Police is now watching. She brings me an assortment of sauces they do not serve at the bar because of liability reasons. One of them was rated at 1.5 million Scoville units. I bought all of them, signing the credit card slip as he watches.

The next time you speak to me I’ll make you bleed

I know what you did So eager to give me reasons why it’s always time to end things Telling me that you’re always busy Going places with people and never telling me Going places with people I’ve never met Insisting I don’t need to meet them or know anything about them Going hours without talking to me Giving me vague reasons when you finally do Kicking me out of your life when I really just needed a friend

You dumped me Then you realized were you went wrong You started giving me reasons why I would see you with another girl Telling me that you were going to look for marriage

But I knew I still know Cause I’ve been there before while you did it to another girl

Thanks for cheating. Thanks for making me hate my body when I couldn’t please you sexually Thanks for making me cry Thank you for a traumatic experience Thank you for taking another friendship away from me Thank you