Note to self: Come down to the station, so we can sort this out without an audience, should indicate, Keep your mouth shut and call your lawyer.

I’m a fucking idiot.

Running my mouth, like I’m just talking to another dude about the injustice of my weekend plans getting shit on, I gave Officer Matthews exactly what he needed to read me my rights, take my picture, and grope my ass. Fine, it was a very professional pat down, but I’m pretty sure we’re official now. Involved, dating … whatever. Had I thought ahead, I’d have had a prenup drawn up, but again, that would have required a call to my fucking lawyer.

Instead, I’m hanging out on an assault charge, watching the hours ticking away before my preliminary hearing. The whole experience of getting chucked into jail was like an episode of Law & Order, minus the dun-duhn echoing through the building. Nope. I’m just a schmuck sitting in a holding cell, waiting for the magistrate of this little town to answer his fucking phone.

What the hell am I going to do?

My flight leaves in thirty-six hours, and my ass needs to be on that plane. But, in all honesty, the thing that’s pinging through my brain is Gracyn and all that I’m missing out on with her. This was my chance to see her, to be with her, and, God, something before leaving a-fucking-gain. At this rate, we’re not going anywhere with this relationship. Like, give up and put that horse out to pasture. I don’t know.

I hate that we are so stuck in our jobs, that neither of us is flexible enough to pull off the vacation or travel time so that we can spend time together. Having met her dad, experienced his uptight judgment, I can see how Gracyn popping off for a couple of days would be a problem. But the way he stood by while Brooks spouted off about G’s brother? Those homophobic excuses for human beings need to eat shit and piss right the fuck off. It’s not like I’ve met the dude, but from the way G talks about him, Bryan’s a good guy. Stand-up individual who saw his opportunity and took it, leaving a toxic situation.

Gracyn though? She seems stuck. Wedged and held firmly in place between a career she loves and that sense of familial duty. Poor girl. It’s like she’s two entirely different people. The laid-back girl who can dance and party for days, but when she dons her business casual, she loses her swagger, like she’s cloaked in threads of mediocrity. Not that she’s not brilliant or good at her job. She’s just stifled by the demand to conform for the sake of outward appearances.

Maybe, if I hadn’t gotten myself fucking arrested, I could have told her enough times, convinced her that she was as amazing as I thought she was. That being true to herself was far more important than not disappointing someone who wasn’t capable of being happy. Asshole.

Her father so outwardly bashes anything that doesn’t fall into his conservative ideal; he’s probably suppressing some serious shit. Maybe his hook-ups in Manhattan are with men. Maybe Teri is really Terry. Maybe Dani is really Danny. Lauryn is actually Loren.

God, and who the hell cares? Just fucking be who you are. Own it and be the best person you can possibly be.

Lofty thoughts and aspirations for a guy sitting in a jail cell.