Fallback Boy

My mind is doing evil things to me right now. It's going places it shouldn't and thinking things it has no business thinking. Sentimentality is wreaking havoc. Happy memories are leading to wistfulness and nostalgia and this eerie feeling of missing The Idiot Who Made Me Cry.
Don't say it, I already know what you're gonna say, cause I'm saying it to myself. I'm supposed to be done with all of that. Hell, I read the 5 Simple Rules. In fact I wrote that bitch myself. And I know that there is to be no reminiscing, good or bad. But right now I can't help it. I'm annoyed. My state of annoyance has absolutely nothing to do with him. We haven't communicated or seen each other since September, so there has been no opportunity for him to do what he does best (i.e. piss me off). This time the responsible party is the Guy Who Shouldn't Make Me Cry. I'm now beginning to think that no such guy exists. Sooner or later they all make us cry (or at least want to cry).
It always amazes me how a fledgling relationship can go from promising to problematic in 0 seconds flat. The same guy that made you smile from ear to ear one day is the same one who makes you shed tears the next. So what's a girl to do when the one person who's supposed to make her happy isn't doing a very good job? Well of course, she thinks of the last person that made her really happy. The Fallback Boy, so to speak. The one you keep going back to literally and figuratively when your current love life more or less sucks. He smoothes out the rough spots. Need someone to have a crush on, never fear, Fallback Boy is here! Need someone to think about when the man you should be thinking about is being a certified dickhead, Fallback Boy to the rescue! Need someone to hook up with cause it’s been a really long time, Mighty Morphin’ Fallback Boy! I hate to say it, but for me, the last guy that made me so happy I could spit was the Idiot Who Made Me Cry, before he made me cry of course.
I’m not deranged enough to want to rekindle anything, well at least not at the moment. But I feel better thinking about The Idiot than I do thinking about everything that’s wrong with the current Guy. He’s like my favorite pair of jeans: used up and busted, yet comfortable. Even though he’s a mess, at least I know what I’m getting.