I'm laughing. I can't believe it. I'm actually laughing at the frivolity of this fucked up situation. I'm walking down Avenue B and chuckling to myself. Lesbian. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I can't believe she fell into the trend of "lesbian chic". It's just so cool these days to be gay, so leave it to Queen Maureen to read the trends as gospel.

What the hell am I talking about? Why am I upset that she's a lesbian? She fucked half the male population in New York and I didn't seem to have a problem with that, now did I? God, I was such a doormat. I clench my jaw tightly and grumble to myself. I should have seen this coming.

Maybe I'm laughing because of the way she said it. Like she was letting me off the hook. Like it was a favor. Well, thank you Gandhi, I'm all set with your shit for now. I'm not going to come crawling back this time, no way. So where are you going to turn? Your new lawyer girlfriend? Great. It's so nice knowing I was the last one before you switched to the other team. It's lovely to know that there was something in me that you found so repulsive that it turned you off of an entire gender. What was it? Was I not complacent enough for your liking? I wasn't enough of a lapdog for you? I adhered to your every wish, I came through whenever you needed me, I risked life and limb and you just...you can just stare at me like you never cared at all? Well that's fine. Fine. You never cared, fine, I get it.

I want to kick something. I'd kick this building if I wasn't so afraid that I'd break my toes in the process. God, it would have been easier if I had just gone to her place, she had knocked my fucking teeth down my throat, and I had left. At least that way she'd be showing some emotion. Oh wait, I forgot. Queen Maureen is allergic to feelings. She knows how to lure you in and spit you out and that's all she wants you for, Cohen, she knows what buttons to push and when and you just crumble at her feet. Pathetic. Fucking sad.

How could I let her get to me first? I knew everything that was happening and everything that was going on, and I still kept her around. Even when Roger told me saw her with some other guy at the Life Cafe, or when I walked in on my own private showing. I shove my hands in my pockets so I don't throttle the next passerby that looks at me like I'm a madman. I saw it all happen right in front of me and I didn't cut her chain first. I let her stick around till she got sick of me. God, it's pure idiocy. I was a naive little bastard to even stay past the first two months of this horrific "relationship". It wasn't a relationship, I was used for her personal amusements. But that's alright, I don't want anything to do with her and her stupid little head games anymore. I'm done with her, I'm finished with all of this excess baggage that she throws at me and the protests and the equipment she needs fixed and all that other shit. I don't want to be a part of it anymore, I just want her out. Gone.

But she won't be gone, she'll come back, be it just for a friendly fucking visit. God it disgusts me to think of her and how she's going to act all condescending and holier-than-thou as soon as she gets the chance. I'm so sick of putting myself through this, why do I do it? Why don't I just date nice girls, someone who'll actually pay more attention to me than the guy sitting at the table behind us. Adjusting my glasses and still keeping an angry and quick pace, I open the door to my apartment and throw myself inside, face down on the couch. There's nothing I can do now but be alone. I'd much rather be alone than with her.

This isn't my fault, I won't let her convince me that this is my fault. So she cheated on me more than once and with various different partners. Like I haven't experienced that before. It's nothing new. It just sucks because I fell into it again. I let myself become her little puppet. Maybe I should just wear a big flashing neon sign that says USE ME or something.

Fuck her. Never again. I'm finished with being used.