Same shit, different day...
9:11 p.m. - 2008-07-31

So here I sit, wondering where Hombre is. He hss not come home from work yet, and his cell phone is sitting on the bookshelf next to me. Convenient of him to forget, huh?

I hate this...I hate it because I get angry, and then I get scared. It always takes me back to that day he and his brother got into a car accident. His brother was killed in that accident. I was so mad because I thought he was out partying, but the truth was he was on his way to the hospital after he and his brother got into a head on collision with a woman. He and his brother had gone fishing, and ironically enough, they had not been drinking. The woman they crashed into died at the hospital. Hombre was the only survivor.

I just remember being so mad that he wasn't home. I was thinking all these horrible things, imagining him partying with his brother and their friends with other girls; doing shit they weren't supposed to be doing. But he wasn't doing any of those things. He was fighting for his life, and I didn't find out until almost two hours after the accident happened.

So when he does shit like this, I'm a mess inside because I want to be angry, but then I'm afraid that he's lying in a ditch somewhere. Then that makes me angry all over again...that he could be so inconsiderate! I've told him how this shit makes me feel. How it drives me crazy, and when he finally does walk through the door...that is the reason I get so fucking pissed at him. But that doesn't stop him from doing this shit.

Actions speak louder than words. So what does that tell me? All I know is that I am not going to spend the rest of my life like this.

Fucken-shit!!!! Fucken asshole!!!! Ugh...

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