Once again, I am driving. I’m pretty sure driving in rage is up there with driving while intoxicated, but at this point I really don’t care. I need to see Blake. He’s working today, but he always has time to talk, especially when I really need to rant. I’ve been thinking a lot these last few hours. There comes a time in a mans life that causes him to remember the people he knew and consider the people he knows, or thinks he knows. I mean, how well does a person know another person? People say “Yeah, I know him,” all the time, when really they mean, “I know his name and he lent me a pencil in pre calc once,”. Going by that I know a lot of people. But wouldn’t those people we “know” also be ones we knew? I’m never going to be in pre calc again; I’m never going to talk to that guy I use to “know”. How can I compare him, this meaningless unknown, next to someone whom I’ve though to have known and loved? I thought I knew Ruby. I knew her laugh, and the way her eyes crinkled. I knew her cherry scent and her sway. I knew her favorite bands and her best friends. I knew everything…but that hasn’t changed. I still know all those things. I know her voice and the shape of her lips. I know her taste, her eager mouth. I know everything, except for her. It’s not fair that guys get accused of being the careless ones. Girls always blame the guys for the end of a relationship. If a guy breaks up with a girl, it’s because we are “heartless lowlifes who don’t care about a girls feelings”, according to the girl at least. For one thing, why would anyone want to stay with a person who just broke up with you? There’s always that girl who begs and pleads, claiming she’ll change and be better. Change what? If you have to change for a guy to stay with you, why be with that guy? When we break up with you, all you hear is “I’m not good enough,”. It never even crosses your mind that we’re not good enough for you. Breaking up with you is giving you a chance to be with the one meant to love you. We don’t want to hurt you, we want to let you go, so that both of us can be happy. It’s also interesting how often guys are accused of cheating. First off, there is a difference between “guys” and “men”. A guy has no self-control, where as a man gives his whole self to you. I believe that the only thing a girl fears more than being cheated on is having her love look at her with regret. When a guy cheats, you girls act like you saw it coming. “Well, he was a guy,”. Though it hurts and ruins you, you still find the need to act like you knew it was going to happen. You mend so quickly though: You cry, you eat, you rant, you vent, you move on. We realize that it hurts, and we’re sorry that it has to. But you will feel so much better when you’re with the right guy, the one who doesn’t ever have to hurt you. However, when a girl cheats on a man, it brings a pain that can only be compared to the stitching of the heart. Each time she hurts you the needle digs in, puncturing a once perfectly happy vessel. It stings and pulls; but you know that with each tiny stitch you’re getting stronger. The more stitching you have, the harder it will be for your heart to be ripped apart again. Being cheated on is the last thing a man expects to happen to him. Girls are suppose to be lovely and sensible. When guys cheat on girls, their excuse is usually “I didn’t want to hurt you,”. Girls have no problem hurting guys; nothing can stop a girl who is searching for her soul mate. She may feel guilty, but that won’t make her stay. When she cheats on you it’s basically saying that you weren’t even worth having an ending with. It’s also strange how people seem to not think of cheating as leaving. It’s leaving; just because their body is with you and the words are spoken to you doesn’t mean they’re thinking of you. No, their thoughts have left to stroll through sweet memories of secret kisses and hushed words shared with their other. There have been two girls whom I have loved with passion and sincerity…there have been two girls who have left me to re-stitch my wounds. People walk in and out of lives every damn day. They step on memories as they walk out the door, they blow away sweet words with the screeches of truths, and they make you forget the spark in their eyes, leaving only the image of them leaving you. And what is the moment you are left? Was it that last kiss you shared? Or maybe more of a number of memories, compiled to form a bitter short film: Looking for her in a crowded stadium, watching her walk down the halls oblivious to you, seeing her eyes pass over you slowly and then light up when she spots her new friends? Leah and Ruby have only ever inadvertently shared one thing, and that is being loved by me. They are so different that not even I can compare the two in a way that does justice. …And when it comes down to it, out of all the people who have left…Leah is the one whom I wish had stayed.