I’m sorry it seemed as if I’ve abandoned you this past couple of weeks. It’s not you, it’s me (and there goes the break-up line of the century). I’ve been preoccupied lately. With what (ok, with whom, more like) you already know. I can’t help it, she’s like an itch I can’t scratch. Or an itch that I do want to scratch but can’t because somebody else is supposed to scratch it already. Wait, what? That doesn’t make sense. Oh, you know I suck at metaphors. Stop staring at me with that blank page and evenly spaced lines!
Just recently, I saw her again. Which is pretty much a done deal since we have few (literally few) common friends.
Although, I wouldn’t classify this as a kind of immortal fixation or whatever. That’s just creepy. This is just a temporary thing. It got to be. I can’t spend eternity gawking over a friend… Yeah, friend… Now that’s just pathetic.
This is a momentary thing, a period of temporary insanity, a ripple in the time continuum of my boring life. Hey, it’s not my fault that she could make me smile just by cracking out a non-sense and equally non hilarious joke, or maybe it’s not intended as a joke, it’s just that.. she says things that could make me smile.
But still, I can’t understand why I feel so different when I’m around her. When she’s with me, I can’t even talk 98% of the time. Oh crap, you know that’s not me. I will never come to please or show off for no one, I’d rather be myself.
But when I’m with her? It’s totally different. Maybe, because I’m just afraid that I might not answer her questions correctly, or be misunderstood because of my stupidity, or maybe because I’d rather not speak than to say something that might turn her off. F*ck! This is NOT me.
I never knew I’ve fallen in love (or something close to that) with a good friend until it’s too late. Yes, I know, blog. I hate cliches with a passion yet I’m living one. This is pathetic. I’m pathetic.
So starting this day, I resolve to stop the pity fest and find myself a distraction. A female distraction. (Nope, not a hobby or an innocent past time or some loser thing like that.) I am a God, hear me roar!!!
Just kidding. You know me too well and you know that I don’t have the balls to do that, especially using the other gender to use as some sort of past time.
Right now, I am just working my ass off until wee hours in the morning, taking charge of my career and finding new one (hey blog, just in case you were not informed I am planning to have my “2nd” job). This is effective… Well at least I think it is.
No more nice guy moping in the corner, looking wistfully into thin air like some puppy waiting for a treat.
No, not yet. I still want her.
— Me, the Idiot of the Century