She's cold blooded, I'm warm blooded.

[beachguy in thongs]

she said nothing about the puppies? ....that BITCH!

I'm convinced that she was held at gunpoint and told to show no emotion around me.

[P.E.N.G.U.I.N.]

Her whole family, and "friends", live four hours inland. I'm the only person she knows, in Virginia Beach. And she's the only one that I trust.

Plus, she has a job and really doesn't want to leave Virginia Beach.

If she can trust you, she damn well BETTER be talking to you!

[beachguy in thongs]

If she can trust you, she damn well BETTER be talking to you!

Even when we had sex, everyday, we'd get into arguments, everyday. It's all (and I hate to blame everything on this) because she automatically responds to involuntary sounds or movements. She gets upset when she thinks that I'm getting upset (even if it's not directed towards her) and, most of the time, she's wrong. I didn't say it in the last sentence, but I blame everything on the fact that she doesn't need to be, nor can handle, living with a T.B.I. survivor.

It was different before the guy, who recieved a "Failure to Yield" ticket, crashed into me. Now, I have pain to go along with it. She went through the period where the doctors were experimenting with "brain candy" on me. Now, I hear things like, "you don't know what you put me through" and she's always on edge, thinking that I'm gonna act like I did for that year. I've only known her for five and 1/2 years and I've had pain for four. I went through the doctors' drugs three years ago.

She doesn't know who I really am. She never shared in anything that I did the first nineteen years, of my life, when I was normal. I had dreams of playing tennis with her, at least. I used to play with my girlfriend in High School, who was on the team. I haven't played Bocci, except once at my Mother's house, ever since I started seeing her.

I know that you're thinking, "Well, then why the hell are you with her?" I was going through "pot-rehabilitation classes", needed to abstain from pot, she told me she was sick, so I went to stay with her, at nursing school. Over the weeks of traveling back and forth between her apartment and my drug classes, 3 1/2 hours or 188 miles away, every week, kind of made me feel that I was one with her. And we did love each other. But, being the opposite "charges" that we are, we always, always, saw things in a different way.

That was overcome by the fact that we smoked pot together. She started smoking soon after I started back up. Then, early in 2005, she quit. I guess, it's slowly deteriorated after that.

My heart is the only thing that doesn't hurt me, after all I've been through, and it's tough for a girl to feel like she's a part of it. A while after I went through the "medicinal phase", she told me that I don't pay enough attention to her. She didn't think I loved her. When it's not the truth. All I thought about was her, even if it was "Why the hell am I with this girl?"

I like to stop at a bar on my way home from work and stop for a beer. She'd never even think of doing such a thing. That's how different we are. She wouldn't go to a bar, just, to see people.

I want to end this, but, I could go on all night. I don't want to end it with a wise-ass comment or leave it like it is, because with the story that I told, it's all her fault and she's so pure, innocent, sweet, and strong that I don't want to make her look like that.

We're from two different poles. We have extremely different pasts.