Bite Me Hollywood, you lying sons of bitches.

I will never in my life watch another romantic comedy. I have been lied to. There are no happy endings. It's Action and/or Slasher flicks from now on. At least when life doesn't imitate them, it's a GOOD thing.

I should probably explain my blog previous to this, for those who could access it. That, my friends, was the written equivalent to my general reaction Tuesday before last, when I finally bit the bullet and confessed my more-than-friendly feelings to a friend of many many years. In my time on earth, I have never felt so close to a full-fledged cardiac arrest, or at the very least, hyperventilation to the point of passing out. I won't get into the conversation, but it was not terribly long, I came out and said what I needed to say, and told him to think on it for a day or two. No knee-jerk reactions please. At the very least, I thought it was at least a little promising.

It was time to come clean, anyways, because I had been holding onto this knowledge for over four years. I had always waited for a good time to tell him, but there was never a good time, and I came to realize that there will be no 'perfect time' - there will pretty much be bad times to tell him, and worse times to tell him. I figured one random night over the phone while he was kind of between relationships was better than drunkenly banging on his hotel room door the night before his wedding.

I have not had much luck in relationships over this time, and I think along with the hurt from the separation, I also think that I have been holding most guys up against this one particular friend.. I would fear commiting 'just in case'. Sabotage. I eventually came to the conclusion that until I had this 'what if?' question resolved, I would never give another man a fair chance.

Things have not turned out well. Definitely not as I hoped. I don't even need to say what I hoped, the hollywood ending would do. But this is not even as I had expected. Having prepared myself for the worst, I had prepared myself for the 'I don't think this would be a good idea, lets just be friends'. I also prepared myself for some weirdness, but I figured the weirdness would mostly be my doing.

What I was not prepared for was a week and a half of almost utter silence (other than a short birthday text). I was not prepared to be held in limbo. I don't like limbo. Hell, I don't even like TO limbo. Of all the people in the world, he was one person I thought grown-up enough to be able to deal with being faced with one's feelings. I thought him capable of paying me the respect of at least speaking with me about it.

I don't know if he's at all cognizant of how difficult it was for me to come out and say what I did. And now what I feel is worse than rejected. I feel utterly disregarded. And like perhaps 13 years of friendship meant more to me than it ever did to him. And it's breaking my heart.

So fuck you Hollywood. Fuck you Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. Fuck you Ashley Judd and Hugh Jackman. Fuck you Julia Roberts and whoever you happen to be starring opposite this week. John Cusack, you can take that big old Boombox and Shove it up your ass. Fuck you Molly Ringwald, because Andrew McCarthy is a pussy and Jon Cryer was totally the shit. Screw you all for giving girls like me hope for jumping the gap from friendship to something more.