and I've gone and done it again...

Well, I've managed to screw it all up again.

No, I didn't sleep with him.

But I did create a new LiveJournal account so I could post a passive aggressive comment and short story about him on it. He, of course, figured out it was me and sent an equally passive aggressive comment back. And his own passive agressive entry to boot.

I tried to see if I could block the whole thing from my computer, but I don't know how to do that. So instead, I switched the language to Russian.

The good news is, it's made me really pissed off at him. Which is better than pining, I say.

The bad news? Well, I don't think we'll be friends. But is this really so bad? I wonder now.

He thinks I need him to be Sleazy because I fell in love with Justin and I need to blame something for the failure. But that's not true. I realized something in all the passive aggressive online banter. He's neither. He's not Sleazy and he's definitely not the Justin I created either.

He's a Lost Boy. Looking for a Wendy to come and fix everything for him. The problem with that is, Lost Boys don't ever want to grow up, never want to leave NeverNeverLand, and the Wendys will come and go, but they will always go because Wendy wants to live a real life. She gets tired of playing games all the time and only living in the made-up reality of the present. His new meta-girlfriend will realize that soon enough, too. You can fix everything around them, but a Lost Boy is just that. A Lost Cause. They are only concerned for the fantasy world that they've created and getting their immediate needs met. That's just how children are.

He wants to bitch about being poor. Then don't work at a tiny bar in Long Island City, when you had a job that paid well in Times Square.

He wants to bitch about being lonely. Then stop thinking only about yourself and make an effort to make someone else happy for a change.

He wants to stop feeling like shit. Then stop doing coke. Stop drinking so much. Try eating a vegatable once in awhile and stop going to bed at 7 in the morning every night. Or morning. Whatever.

He wants to bitch about how his art is underappreciated. Then stop writing all the more and actually try to get your shit published. He wants to be a rock star? Then try promoting yourself, rather than the only people at your shows are girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, their friends, and the people you went to college with.

But he must not really want all that. Because the answers are so simple and so within reach. He just can't be bothered. He wants his NeverNeverLand.

I wish him luck with that.

Time for this Wendy to return to the real world and actually live a real life, sans bedtime stories and fairy tales.

On a side note, I wonder who Captain Hook is in this metaphor. I'll have to ponder that one.