Or the account of my decline into barbarism (and all of the lovely, mad people who helped me do it).

Monday, August 2, 2010



Daniel texted me today to say he had been thinking about me. I thought he had said everything that needed to be said after he called me the other day. Apparently not. I told him I was well and he asked when I was coming back to Asheville. Like the dumb ass I am, I told him I would be there tomorrow for an internship interview downtown. He asked to see me because he missed my smile.

Well, shit. I didn't expect this guy to stay in contact with me because the last time he said we'd "keep in touch" he went MIA for two months. I laid it down straight and told him meeting was a bad idea because I was talking to someone. It would be weird to go out with my ex.

I was in the process of asking my dad for advice when Daniel called me. I ignored it and he texted me to say he had a few things to get off his chest. Fine, I said.

He called me to apologize if he had been overbearing the past few days. He didn't mean to stress me out. It was just shocking, I said. Because he tells me how much he misses me, how he had to keep himself from begging for me back. Like the time I saw him at Ingles before the Vampire Weekend concert and how he ran after me, but I was pulling out of the parking lot. I remember going home to Michelle that evening and saying I shouldn't have seen him that soon after we broke up (it had been a week.). It was just too hard.

Anyway, the last thing he said is that whoever I'm talking to is a lucky guy, and he better know that. Yeah, he better.

If this isn't surreal enough, his statuses lately have been lyrics relating to lost love. His most recent one looked familiar. It's because they're lyrics from a song I burned for him on a CD for Valentine's Day. Finally, I went to his FB page and noticed my favorite quote in my favorite book The Catcher in the Rye was posted beneath his profile picture. I know he hasn't read the book.

Well, shit. Guys just suck.

I'm still trying to hold the whole Pierre affair at arm's length, but it is hard. He's looked up the costs of tickets from Budapest to Asheville and is very set on seeing me for fall break. We'll see. I'm not convinced until he books the tickets on Aug. 28th. I hate being cynical because that's not me at all. I just really don't want to get hurt here, and there's a lot of potential for that. I just want to enjoy things while they're lovely and crazy and fucking weird.

CORRECTION: Daniel just told me he read The Catcher in the Rye last month. Wow. I'm very impressed. I recommended the book several times, but he used to tell me how much he hated reading. I must have made an impression on him? Or maybe I'm just being conceited. Hm.

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