There are two types of pain. There's physical pain, the type that everyone has. You stubbed your toe, or hurt your back helping a friend move. I'm no stranger to the normal amount of pain that an active guy faces in his twenties. And I'm not afraid of that kind of pain. Growing up with two brothers, I've had my fair share of injuries, that when I was little sent me to my mother, crying. And although it sucks, I get through it. I'm a pretty tough guy.

But there another type of pain, the kind that can't be seen in the form of a bruise, a bandage, or cast. It's the emotional pain. You see someone on crutches with a broken leg, and look at someone with a broken heart. You'd be surprised to see who is more crippled by pain. The guy with a broken heart. And I tell you why. Because that guy is me.

And over the past year, I've had way too much emotional pain. And the thing is, I couldn't even admit it to myself. Im dating Karen, but I'm still hopelessly in love with Pam Beesly.

But here's the best part: nobody does, or ever will know, about my pain. Because I'm perfectly fucking alright just keeping it to myself, because that's the kind of guy I am. I don't complain. And as I sit here with my supposedly perfect girlfriend Karen, I don't really give a shit about her.

Not that there is anything wrong with her. Maybe at another time in my life, I'd think that she was the one. Well guess what, she's totally in love with me, and Id rather talk to the pizza guy than her. Because at least I can talk to him without my fucked up head comparing everything he does to pam.

I'm stuck at a terrible job, too afraid to quit but equally afraid of continuing to work there. But lots of people have shit jobs and still have happy lives, but I'm not one of them. But my work life is a perfectly parallel of my love life, stuck with Karen, too afraid to dump her, but at the same time afraid of being stuck with her. So I guess my life is stuck right now, clogging up the metaphorical toilet of life, because its hovering, but not quite going all down the drain. And that works as a metaphor on two levels I guess, because guess what? My life is shit.

But what do I do? I put on a happy face, and go out in the work and sell paper. And the only reason I keep coming to work is that despite the rest of my shit life, I can sell paper well. I can convince any businessman that they need our overpriced paper, but I can't even convince myself I need to wake the fuck up and fix this shit.

So I guess for a while, I'm just gonna be stuck here, trapped between Pam and Karen, not being able to commit to either. So I stand here, with my life falling apart, but one things coming together. Physical and emotional pain, are being brought together as one. The pain that I feel in my heart and my brain at the same time. Coming together, and pulling me apart.