We received a contribution from our featured guest writer, Jeremy Stewart. This one is perhaps one of the best I’ve read. He really summed up the Coaching Situation for WVU Football very well.
After the jump, if you please.
I always knew it was a matter of time. I was just a rebound, a stand-in that was a nice guy, would never hurt her. I’d never leave, like her last boyfriend, flirting with a girl down south, staying, saying he’d be with her forever, then leaving in the middle of the night for a busty girl up north. I wasn’t going anywhere, this was my dream girl. I was always early but willing to wait, tried to be a Don Draper style Mans Man gentleman, but would also hold a purse in the mall like a pussy, while she tried on something that would make her look great. Too great for me, certainly. I was there because she could keep her life together, we had all the same friends, it was comfort, really. I wasn’t dangerous and I was going to talk her up to everyone I met. Though the relationship lasted 3 years, almost right away there was the rumbles from her friends. ”Oh Stews such a nice a guy, but you soooo could do better”! You remember my friend Bud? Still, it was great at times in situations I was comfortable. Take her to the movies, sit around the fire with my friends, when I was the places that felt like home, I was the best. But out on the road was rough. The clubs, the parties, I was the worst. I couldn’t dance if I was being shot at, and spent most my time at parties looking awkward as hell. I just wasn’t good in big environments, hadn’t been there before, probably wasn’t meant to be there. Still in my head I thought, I was there for her when noone else was, I had tricked myself in to thinking I deserved her, and she would never stray. It would turnout to be foolish. Towards the end of the 3 year mark, she said it was over, but she wanted to stay friends. I was devastated, but figured hey, maybe if I just hang around, she’ll come back to me. I tried hard, so hard to keep her from finding someone new. But of course she did and I knew soon I’d be outta the picture.
Jealous acts are like drugs. It feels great when your doing it, but it will always come back to bite you in the ass. Too much jealousy is like too much anything, one moment you’re Chris Farley, Dancing Bear and the next you’re naked, facedown in a hotel room and a hooker is trying to revive you. Jealousy, and the idea that I was good enough for her, is why I have no one now. All my friends moved away, to Tennessee, Indiana, the Carolinas. Mully doesn’t even call. God her friends hated ole’ Mully. Our mutual friends won’t speak to me. Tony, Jeff, Kirley. Nothing. It’s all my fault. It sounded like a great idea at the time, to tell her the new boyfriend was a drunk, tell all her friends he was a drunk. Big effing drunken Texas hotshot. She found out I had lied, and the girl that was too hot for me, the one I always dreamed of, dropped me just like that. West Virginia, if you’re reading this I’m sorry and I still love you.
-Bill