The blue shirt I picked out found him love without me...

This week hasn't been a good week for me. Last night especially.
I was asking Braden if it was okay if I used him and his cartoon character Kitty Hawk in my play, "Altered Ego", about internal realities in relation to the world. I wanted to make sure, because in my play, Braden and I are dating, the storybook I always pictured me and him would have, two mismatched crazy lovers with nothing but themselves.
I apologized to Braden for ignoring him and he said he was doing the same. I don't why I ignore him, it's just part of myself. There is something frightening, something strange...I don't know. Anyway, he told me there was a reason he had ignored me. The reason was he had met someone, a girl even...at the swing dance. The danced, they liked each other and they "kinda hooked up" was the phrase that Braden used.
Well folks, there is a blue moon out tonight. Braden has two girls. My mind filled up with tears and I cried like I haven't cried in a long long time. I had been doubled crossed! We were just taking a break! He promised things would get better! And now, a week after our parting he's making out (he didn't even really make out with me!) with some girl? This, boggles my mind! The unexpected always happen to Emily Sauter. Now all my play ideas are ruined. How can I make myself in love with Braden when Braden involved with someone else. It seems so cheap and obsessive, and I've been down that road before. It's not a good road.
he was wearing that blue shirt, the one that made me sexually attracted to him...and now some other girl's pawing the buttons on it, the shirt I thought would solve our sexual disaster...was bringing him pleasure with another girl.
He apologized again today, told me he couldn't be happy with new girl because he was sad I was upset. You're damn right I'm upset I told him. I was so upset I wrote a poem:
The Blue Shirt I picked out Found Him Love
Yes, the Idea is true
Theories of love let him be happy
But so horrible is rejection
In blue shirts, you move like a spiked punchbowl
Flowing through the veins of a 12 year old
You are the 12 year old refined.