Well I did what most forums stated was dang near impossible. I officially bricked her. Wow. I think I had a brief Harlem Nights moment – eff this phone, eff the phone carrier, eff the manufacturer, eff the Celtics (Sixers fan). Everything is irritating me now. I broke into my Kanye –It is a weeping, and a moaning, and a gnashing of teeth. I was at the gym and thought about throwing her into the urinal; which oddly had the essence of catfish. Why do I always have to meddle with something? Here I have a relatively good girl and I pushed her away with my tech ego. Now I can’t get her to respond to me at all. To add insult to injury, her clothes arrived this weekend as well. That’s like buying Vicky Secrets or Freddy’s for your lady, only for her to checkout (mentally or physically) and you don’t get to enjoy watching it cling to her body.
You look at relationships sometimes and wonder how you got to the point where you hate one another? We are fighting over music. Really? All this over a freaken equalizer? Not the screen, not the hardware specs, but we talking about music man. How silly is that? We talking about music. Now I know I’m supposed to be there for her and I know that I’m supposed to lead by example and all. I’m not shoving that aside like it don’t mean anything. I know it’s important, I honestly do. But we’re talking about music. We’re talking about music man. We’re talking about music. We’re talking about music. We’re not talking about the phone. We’re talking about music. She may be a franchise player and she goes out everyday and gives me her all, but we talking about music man. Music.
Why didn’t I realize she was good enough as she was? I tried to give her plastic surgery to enhance her for my own gratification, and she imploded. Yet my pride still wants to blame her for this. I think I will just give it a rest and try again tomorrow when cooler heads prevail. I don’t want to say anything to Andrea that I may regret later.