Carrie

I am going through an identity crisis. I don't know if my name is Pablo or if it's Carrie Bradshaw, my life is starting to be too much like hers...except I am not a chain smoker like her.

Let's begin with the basics: she is a writer. A woman that exposes her life into the narrow columns that is printed on thin newspaper with the utmost honesty. I am a writer because it has become something that allows me to deal with my life's problems. I weave my personal experiences and the stories of the people I come across with into my world of fiction. She is also a person that is really into shoes. My cousins buy shoes, wear them once, and then never wear them again. My parents go to Vegas on occassion, take the really nice shoes, and give them to me. She also has friends that openly talk about their sex life....let's see...I am gay and almost every gay man I know talks about their latest hookups.

Something else that she and I have in common? We both share a Mister Big in our lives. Some big asshole that annoys us up the wall with their antics as well as make us weak whenever we hear the bastard's voice.

Don't think like I am going back to that guy, holding onto the hope that we could get back together, he blew it with some of the words that he said a week ago. Do I really want to stoop down to his level and make him think like I can be at his side after that? I don't think so. I want someone to work just as hard as I am in a relationship. Not pretend to do work while I am carrying it through the entire time. I don't have enough energy to hold us both together while juggling a busy life.

Madonna says in her new CD: "When I'm gone / you realize / that I'm the best thing to happen to you." I was going to stay around here and wait until the end of the year before I can move up to Hollywood, but I think so far, I am going to move out as soon as summer is over. Start my life over in a new direction and light. I think that once I do that, Jeff will either realize that he is on my terms now, or he will realize how much he takes advantage of me.

I am sick of crying over him. Why feel like I am wasting my tears believing in my own fantasies? My own pieces of fiction in my head to keep me going on in life. Feeling like I was making progress in something when in reality, he is the only one that is trying to move on with his life while I stay here feeling sorry for myself. Time to move on.

Maybe I should write Carrie that