Screwed the Pooch

Why does it feel like I've heard that title before recently?

Oh well...anyway, this is one of my lament stories that just won't go away no matter what I do. It seriously makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and drool on my bib. Actually, I'm not wearing a bib, but anyway, here's the story:

Five years ago, there was this girl...a beautiful, beautiful girl, just trust me on this...who had a big crush on me. This wasn't one of those sad crushes - the kind a fat moma's boy has for the head cheerleader; this was a more conservative, and yet incomparably sexy crush. I heard things here, saw things there - got a couple of surprise notes. These weren't sappy love notes or anything of an alarming nature...just some "encouragement" notes for the work I had been doing as song leader in high school chapels (I went to a Christian high school). Well, I won't get into the nitty-gritty, but I will tell you that somehow in the course of getting to know her, I did (and didn't do) some things that today make me cringe like the most cringingest cringinger you can imagine. And the end result? It all fell through. Nothing to report. Zilch. Notta. Something that could have been amazing (this girl had everything - EVERYTHING! looks, brains, a body, a soul, and, of course, a crush on me) resulted in nothing, because I was a JACKASS!

Well, at this point you're probably thinking, "so what, Pei...get over it, dude. You have a long life ahead of you: a good education, a sexy body, and a nice singing voice. Find another girl". Well, minus all that shameless self-exaltation, which you may or may not agree with, I can only tell you that the stars haven't yet forgiven me for my folly, and for some reason events keep conspiring to remind me of how efficiently and rigorously I screwed the pooch.

First of all, some friends of mine who are friends of this girl told me that she is now married. Well, it's not like I was still expecting something to happen between us. As you have probably guessed by the long line of people this gossip had to go through to get to me, we're not exactly in touch anymore. But still...when you hear that a girl who was just this side of being your high school sweetheart and token of your "happily ever after" is now in the arms, and the bed, of another...well...it gets to you a little.

Well, I was dealing with that news okay. But the news I just heard made me want to rip my arm off and beat myself upside the head with it. Apparently this girl, who I've justly characterized with such words as "beauty", "brains" and "body", also happens to have something that would alone be enough for many a mercenary to want her: MONEY! And holy crap, I'm telling you...I had no friggin' clue. I knew her family was well off, but as it turns out, they're not well off. They're friggin' millionaires. They're living it up in a mansion on a hilltop, I won't tell you where, but it happens to be the most valuable home in the whole city (a city of about 150 thousand). I am not exaggerating.

Maybe I should feel bad for talking like this. You're not supposed to marry for money, right? But still, considering that this girl was absolutely everything...an honest one-in-a-million, I do have the right to be pressing my hands with an iron, don't I? Aw geez....I could seriously kill myself.

That's all.