Oh, alright, no wants me to drunk dial them, and I can't blame them.

I lied, B.

B, I know what I said before I blacked out, about if you get over her, please date me. And yes, it was a sales pitch. Because I like you that much. You have no idea, having to listen to shit, and still not be bitter about it. But I really can't be, because our relationship was never like that, though I wanted it to be. I'm totally serious, I really, really like you. I don't care how many crack whores you've had, or that you have family problems, or that people want to control you. If there's a good thing to be said about my family, we're working class, not snobs, and if you're doing something with your life, no one will hold it against you. The only requirement from you that my family will hold you to is that you treat me awesomely and make me laugh. Really. As long as you're good to me, you're good with my family, because we know what the fuck is important in life, and if you don't treat the Princess with the awesomeness she deserves, you aren't worth the time - and they won't hesitate to tell you that. Or me, if they feel that they can't be that straight forward with you. Seriously, do you not know how awesome life with me would be? Especially at this moment in my life, where I've shared the worst that could happen to a person - a baby born only to die - with my sister (-in-law, which is a technicality) and my brother. Life is what it is.

I have moments of psychoneuroses, but really, I'm much more on an even keel than I've ever been - you met me when I was dealing with hardship - and you didn't see me when I was dealing with the worst of my depression. That person you knew years ago really did have issues that since...well, not resolved, but better. I know when it will be bad, and I can warn people, and it's not horrible now, like it was before. As long as there are lines of communication open, I will be fine. Most of my troubles with Mr. Trenchcoat was that he sorely lacked in the communication department. But if we talk, I will always be okay. And if Doting Uncle doesn't like that, well, I have to deal with douchebags on a frequent basis, so that doesn't bother me. Remember The Artist? I can speak their language. They'll see me as smart-but-dumb. And I'm okay with that.

It's all in the perception, baby.

Marry me?

Pipe dreams...if they would only come true!