I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT

It certainly wasn’t love.
It wasn’t even friendship.
I don’t know WHAT it was… perhaps some of the younger ladies could help me understand?
I think it was a giant bunch of nothing, and I have no idea why, but I allowed this giant bunch of nothing to distract me for an inordinate period of time.
However much time it was, you can rest assured the interval was inordinate!
Because he wasn’t even worthy of distraction, so clearly I must’ve been in love with myself the entire time?
In this pseudo-ship of a pseudo-shit that I just survived?
The only residual problem might be…

I think I made a TOTAL ass of myself over this Big Lug of Nothing.
As in: got the emotionally embarrassing equivalent of “sloppy wet drunk,”
highly-hormonal, possibly puberty-level of embarrassment,
Only compounded by the significance I placed on something of such Apparently-Obvious Insignificance which wasn’t Significantly Obvious to ME!

So, I don’t know, Girls and Boys:
What DO you call “IT” when you act like a Mindless, Stupid Twit over a Useless Heap of Shit these days?