cowboy boots!
Yes, cowboy boots. He wore them all the damn time. Needless to say, I am not a fan. When I met him, he was wearing Adidas. The white ones, the ones that were in style and they looked really cute with his NORMAL jeans that he was wearing the night I met him... you know, the normal ones. Not the tight wranglers that you see in old westerns. Granted, we live in the South, but I am not into the whole cowboy thing.. I just couldn't do it, so.. what did I do?
I ended it over cowboy boots.
I knew I was being nuts. I knew that I was doing what I always do, and that is run. Run, Run, Run. "Im like a bird, I always run away..." Thanks Natalie Imbruglia or whoever sings that song, it is a pretty song but it is not a pretty situation that I put myself in.
So.. I am not going to go over the specifics of all the other "victims" in my life, but the basics are this: There was always a cowboy boots kind of reason when it came to every guy that wanted a relationship with me. Whether it was they didn't have a good job, they were too skinny, too short, too tall, too lanky, stuttered sometimes, had too white of eyebrows, (yes, I know).. I stopped talking to them. No explanation... I always thought it had to do with someone in particular, someone that I am actually dreading doing a blog about because yes, I think that this person has affected me in ways that I still don't really know all too much about.
Lets call him Barry.