Who Is more Screwed Up Than Me?

Why is it always easier to see your friend's problems than your own? Why are we hell bound to our own destruction?



I don't understand why I've limited my life the ways I have. Even more baffling is why my good friend always picks bad guys. She's a smart, talented lady who has everything except a steady guy.


No, that's not true, she has a new man she's known for six months living in her house. The man tells her he is going to add a second story to her house, but he doesn't replace the burned out hot water heater. Yeah, that's right they are taking cold showers. He tells her how much money he has, but it's all tied up. The government won't let him access his money.


He drives a convertible BMW, but for six months it's been making its way home. You know how these things go, maybe tomorrow.


This guy is an incredible catch; she's so lucky to have him. He is a colonel in the marines for which he was a pilot, a deep sea diver. He worked for the CIA and was in the Reagan white house working with Oliver North, yet he stands in line with the privates at the VA hospital for treatment.


Just when I think I am the most screwed up woman in the world; I realize, no, I hang around with her. God, she is one of my best friends. What slays me is that no one can tell her. She wants a man in her life so badly, that anyone who tries to tell her is immediately excommunicated from her life. So I shut my mouth and wait for the train wreck.