I wish you could make chewing gum dissolve when you're finished with it. You chew it a certain way and it fizzles. No having to get up to throw it away or finding something to wrap it in.

The weekend's ok so far. Yesterday was a prelude to the great dramatic exit of Laura I expect. A prelude that I foresaw months ago. Mark stopped by. He's in town on business. Laura wasn't there at first. I ended up telling him, not even directly, about the guy she's been seeing. I just couldn't deal with it anymore and it just sorta came out. I didn't even have to say much to be honest. Turns out that she's been calling him and telling him that she loves him and blah blah blah, up to a week ago. He didn't care that she's been seeing someone but he feels played, understandably. She's also fallen behind in her rent. Which, I guess makes the 'I love' phone calls less random. I guess I'd 'love' him too if I wasn't paying rent, was fucking someone else and didn't want to get kicked out of the apartment.

If we got along better, I probably would've defended her. I'm really tired of her bullshit though and I honestly can't say I care what happens to her now. Move in the with the current guy for all I care. Whatever happens, I was assured by Mark that I'll be ok. And damn right I should be ok. I've always paid my rent. Late? Why, yes but it's always been paid. I wish I knew she was behind with her half earlier so I could've told her out right not to smoke in the apartment. Anywhere in the apartment.

I don't even get how she could allow herself to fall behind. She was working. I guess pot and partying really does add up. Irresponsible fuck. That's another thing, I was telling Andrea earlier today, I'm so fuckin' tired of being the 'responsible' one. I'm twenty-fuckin-four and I feel like everyone expects me to act like one of those well-put-together 30-somethings. Y'know, the rare ones that actually exist. I am, of course to blame for these expectations since I've always been 'the good son,' 'the responsible one.'

I've barely spoken to Laura. Kelly came in my room and sat on my bed while Mark and Laura were still talking and mentioned something about being asked if she was paying rent. I was watching Clueless on DVD, trying to ignore what I felt was happening in the rest of the apartment. I forced myself to smile and drift. She interrupted that when she asked, "Do you think I should be paying rent?"

"Fuck, woman. Yes, actually, I do," I was surprised by my own 'matter-of-fact' tone. "I think it's something you should work out with Laura though."

"So you think I should pay rent when Laura asked me to come here and hang out for a month," she was starting to raise her voice and I didn't like it.

"Yeah, I do. Part of it anyway. But like I said, it's something you should work out with her. I can understand a couple weeks but it's been longer than a month."

She got up and left, slamming the door behind her.

"Fuck that's some nerve slamming MY door!" I thought as I rewound the parts of the movie I missed. "Why the fuck do these people expect everything to be free for them?! Fuck, man! She isn't exactly 'hanging out. anyway. She got a fuckin' job at Dean & Deluca. That's not 'hanging out.' Pay some fuckin' rent."

I went downstairs to get my laundry. She later knocked on my door and apologized for slamming it. "I didn't mean to." I hate that. I hate when people say that because, y'know what? You meant to. You meant, you did it and you felt bad after. Say that. Say that you felt bad after but don't say you didn't mean to. I don't think I've ever said anything in the heat of a moment I didn't mean and the only thing I apologize for when that happens is the harshness of which it came out. If you thought it at that point, if you hated at that point, I'm pretty sure you meant it. No wrong wiring there.