I spend several tragic days with my self -mourning over someone who:
a) thought bathing was an optional task (and washing clothes?: pfff..not even .)
b)i was pretty sure i wasnt that into.( c above)
And just when i m sorta feeling bluest about him and the loss of the fake version of what we had that ive recreated for my own personal tragic wallowing time.
right ..about as this is hitting a crux high point..( tragic coup d’etait) where im weepy and chilled.. AT tHIS EXACT MOMENT>.
>I get a call -out of the blue- from a boy i ve had an ENORMOUS crush on for-like-ever.
but whom i dont know, save for from-afar-voyeur like crush.
well anyway.. this 2nd figment of my over active minds romance vaults… calls me. he is with a (mutual) friend ( ..who knew?) and wants me to come out with them.
how quickly did my tragic self turn the tragedy of which i first mentioned into an anecdote?
how long did it take you to read this?
i love being me.(once again)