Waiting for the Bus

I don't get it. The bus should be here by now. I wonder where it is. Or maybe I'm just a poor judge of time. Or maybe I shouldn't have broken my watch last night.

Maybe she shouldn't have stood me up. Or maybe I shouldn't have gotten so pissed off about it that I threw my watch at the wall. Or maybe she shouldn't have given me that watch in the first place. And then stood me up. After six months as a couple. Maybe life just sucks.

Maybe she wasn't my type anyway. I never did care for her hairdo. And her eyes aren't my favorite color. I wonder what I ever saw in her.

Where the hell is that bus? I'm going to be late for work, and it's all her fault.

And that phone call, half an hour after she was supposed to meet me at the restaurant. Our favorite restaurant, of all places. Not that that should have mattered. And the lame excuse she gave me. Where's that damn bus? Did she really expect me to buy that story about her sick aunt? Six months together, and she never even mentioned an aunt.

Should have worn my gloves. It's not getting any warmer out here. Where's the god damn bus? In about two minutes I'm going to start walking.

She changed that hairdo once or twice. Why didn't she leave it alone the second time? I really liked that one. And I suppose her eye color could have been worse, and I did get used to it. Probably shouldn't have commented on that color, I suppose. Telling her what color I liked better wasn't exactly the smartest move.

Wow. Maybe it was me? Did I say something to turn her off? Why couldn't she just let me know? Couldn't be just because I forgot her birthday once. Or twice. I apologized both times. What more did she want?

I think my ass has gone to sleep. If I try to get up now, my legs will probably give out. If the bus shows up, I probably won't be able to stand up. I'll end up sitting here until spring. By which time I'll be dead, so it won't matter that she dumped me.

Where's that god damned bus?