A brief moment.

We eventually decided it was time to leave the coffee shop. We got up and walked outside, and both started heading in opposite directions, toward our respective cars. So we paused, looked back, said our goodbyes. He squinted and gave me that look, and asked, "Awkward to hug, or not awkward?" I shrugged, said eh, opened my arms for a hug, and my mind went blank.

I don't know that I've ever experienced such a moment, with no thoughts at all. I didn't even breathe. I didn't try to memorize the moment, I didn't try to think about how it was making me feel, I didn't even register the feeling of his arms around me. I was holding back tears, but not thinking about holding back tears. For those seconds, I was just existing.

I patted his back, let go, and turned away from him before I had to see his face again, just it case it would send my tears over the edge, just in case my eyes were getting red. I started walking away, he said he'd call me next time he's in town, which would probably be June. I looked back, smiled and said ok, and waved.

Even after I got in my car, I didn't cry. Not one tear. Perhaps I've finally shed enough over him.

Ctrl + D

I am obsessed with this website. I check it daily. I commiserate, I laugh, I smirk knowingly, I feel glad that some of them aren't me. I feel like some of them are me, like they were thoughts taken straight out of my head. (One of them is. But you'll never guess which.) I wish that some of them were him. I pray to god some of them aren't.

I find myself writing little blurbs like this in my head, all the time. To him, to strangers, to pilots, to imaginary boys who date me, to boys I don't date. Sometimes they're not even true, I just like the way they sound. I could write my own entire book of these things by now, and the site hasn't even been around that long.

Perhaps this obsession is not quite a healthy thing. But I can't stop. I can't look away. I can't not click on that bookmark. At least it's healthier than booze, eh?


That's all. I just wanted to spread the love. The Dear Old Love.

Not an update.

I had coffee with D on the 31st. And, as I said, I'm finding it hard to write about. We sat and talked for almost five hours, and it was actually rather nice. Easy, even, besides the first five minutes when I was just trying not to cry. All the shit aside, he did used to be my best friend/roommate/fiance, and I've never been good at the whole spite/grudge/anger thing, when it comes to him. So maybe I don't want to spoil our nice meet-up by making it public. Maybe I don't want you to judge me for not hating him. Maybe I don't want you to jump all over him with hatred that makes up for my lack of it tenfold. Whatever the reason, I just can't write about it. So I'm not going to. And I've also just erased a large portion of this entry, which talked a lot about him and where my mind rests on it all (which is to say, nowhere, because my mind never rests on this issue). Perhaps another day.

Moving on.

Sometimes when I see people, I imagine what our children would be like. It could be a stranger on the street, it could be someone I've known forever and just learned or noticed something new about. I don't discriminate. These things just occur to me, out of nowhere, often accompanied by, "I wonder if we'd have ginger babies?" (I want ginger babies more than anything.)

I have an overbite. I hate it, actually, and generally try to hide it. I make a conscious effort to hold my lower jaw differently so that my chin isn’t all hiding and my lower lip isn’t all ridiculous-pouty-looking and my teeth aren’t all clenched. Seriously, I’m not a fan. And I don’t even know if traits like this are passed on in genes, or if that’s just sort of a luck-of-the-draw sort of thing. (Clearly, I’m not up on my biology, but hey, I was an English major.)

Anyway. I had a passenger the other day with an overbite very similar to mine, and all I could think was, “Man, our children would be screwed.”

He also had a unibrow, but I’d teach my babies to tweeze.