I'd rather hit my own scrotum with a hammer.

He said (I'm paraphrasing a touch) when I suggested we could be friends. I'll be honest with you, I didn't think I would get that kinda response. After all. I'm nice(ish), reasonably smart if a touch sweary.
Fuck, it hurt.
Admittedly, my radar is a bit rusty, it's been 20 years since I've had to do the thing where you gauge the strength of a possible relationship. So having discovered a romantic thing wasn't going to happen, but realising that we had a nice thing going, I thought, 'Hey how about we be friends?'
Bad move. Never offer up a cheek when the other one has already been spat on. Time to stop banging my head against this particular wall I think.

Luckily for me, LeeAnne picked me up and we went and bought cleaning fluids in the sun (you haven't lived if you've not done it). I managed to tell her what it was like to be rejected as a friend without actually stabbing myself in the head or crying and she reassuringly laughed her cock off. Thanks, bitch.

After I showed her some texts from the rejector, she agreed he was blowing hot and cold and that I was right to be confused.
Then we laughed together. Maybe for 10 mins solid. It IS funny.
Some wee came out, and I snotted all over the windscreen.

Then she reminded me that this time last year I was so numb with pain
that she would quite often have to hit me with a cricket bat to get my attention. She's right.

So this is being alive. Hello world.