“You always attract the crazy ones,” my love life summed up in one precise sentence. The sort of people who happen to love me, do so like a Meekakitty-Selena-Gomez music video. They’ve got sanity romantic tastes on a psychotic budget.
I plead no innocence on their “quirks.” If anything, I’m the one who pushes the button that sets them off because messing with people’s lives is what I do. And one of these days, it’ll backfire on me and you’ll read about me in the Sunday paper, tucked in the corner: “Human remains found.” The article will run at short length. No one will remember my name.
Jeanna attests that she’s the sanest of the crazies. At least she admits to her ways without having anyone holding up a mirror. However, she isn’t the sanest person on my love list. While she is the sanest ex-girlfriend, there is another person at the top of list of sanest girl unfortunate enough to love me. I never kiss and tell, though. She knows who she is, anyway.
Warning flags have waved and I still I haven’t broken it off when I know I should. And while she’s annoying me to tears, there I am. Standing right in front of it. Ignoring the DO NOT PRESS sign. Watch me hit the cray button, y’all. If I vanish, she killed me.
