The Women Who Wear The Pants.

So, like I said in the post before, my boyfriend and I got into a scrap.
He is now walking on eggshells. Because I'm "clinically" crazy. But he doesn't know that. Yet.
Although... I'm pretty sure he's guessed it.
He got mad at me for doing something illegal but fun.
I'm pretty sure you can guess what I did.

Anyways;....
He's mad. Or was mad. Whatever.
I basically told him to grab his big boy panties and fucking deal. I'm going to do things he doesn't like. He can either suck it up or we are over. He chose to suck it up. Wise choice. But now he's kissing my ass too much.
How backwards is that??
He wants me to talk about my feelings but I'd rather go become a "Barbie" before I do that.
He wears the skirt. I wear the pants.
I just wonder if he's noticed it by now. Probably. He's not stupid. But he isn't smart.

I mean, I think I love him. But I'm not sure. 


See how I put emphasis on "think"? 


I'm a little cynical about love but not as much as my friend. (You know who you are.)
I don't like it but I don't hate it. I'm kind of neutral about the whole thing. I don't mind being in love, I just hate the whole admitting it part and the whole 'falling' scene. It's so fucking Disney to me. And it seems like every women in todays society is supposed  to find "him", ya know?
I don't want to be like everyone else. 
I don't want that whole chick flick romance. 
Those just put false hopes in girls heads and the guys who DO like them, and are decent, will never match the fairy tale in their head. It's so screwed up now. 
Fucking Hollywood, man. Fucking Hollywood. 


Okay, my raw finger is actually causing me intense pain so I'm gonna go.
Peace
-A