Yesterday

My weekend has started. And I'm already procrastinating. But I'm planning on doing what I have to starting tomorrow morning. Library, research, research, research, writing seventeen pages. Oh, and I'm supposed to make a book in there somewhere, too. It's all coming down, just like every semester. I'm wondering if there are going to be any interruptions from the myriad of boys that are alternately ignoring and bothering me.

So the old boy came over last night. We watched a movie, ate pizza, drank wine. I told him his girlfriend was an idiot with no imagination because she hadn't figured out that he's been lying to her since the day he met her. Not the nicest thing I've ever said, but it could be one of the truest. I also reminded him that he never lied and cheated before that malevolent bitch of an ex burned him. I told him he was letting her get the better of him by becoming a worse person because of her. And he was becoming just like her. I also told him that I didn't think he's a bad person, deep down. I also told him I was mad that he's going to Buenos Aires and I'm not. Unrelated, but whatever. And then he gave me a big long hug. He stayed over, but nothing happened. He also gave me a big long hug before he left this morning. I also seem to have some strange memory of telling him I loved him, but I think I may have said it in my sleep, or right before I fell asleep. Yes, I'm an idiot.

I'm sure I said some other things that I don't remember, but those are the main points. Maybe I was too blunt with him. Maybe it comes off as me being mean. But I feel as if a weight has been lifted. Mind you, it wasn't a fight. It was just me talking. I'm not sure if he really listens to anything I say, but I hope he is. It's quite possible that he just takes me with a grain of salt. Whatever. At least I know I'm making myself as clear as I know how. Maybe one of these days he and I will have a relationship like you and I do, where all the crap goes away and we can just be friends. Not that you ever put me through the wringer like he has, but you get the idea. The attraction, the resistance, etc. Maybe in ten years he'll tell me he should have dated me too. Theoretically it should be gratifying, but I can tell you it isn't. It's like saying 'I wish I'd had the steak' after you already ate dinner. It's pointless.

Anyway, I'm hoping that he and I have reached a point where we can be around each other like (mostly) normal people. Sure, it's always going to be painful, but so were you for a long time. I got over it eventually. I'll get over this, too. I may never find someone who wants to be with me, but maybe I'll be able to find people who at least understand and accept me.