saturday, i didn't quite feel up to leaving the house, even if it was for him. so he said, i have a two hour break tuesday and thursday. let's see each other then. tuesday came and he had a paper to type. thursday, thursday. i'll be free on thursday. you say that like i don't have things to do on thursday, sir. if you don't have time then, we can pick another day. so i danced on pins and needles at internship on wednesday, a confused mixture of anxiety and despair. thursday came. the time clicked by, painfully slow. three o'clock came and left. where are you? i thought you had things to do. why? does "you say that like i don't have things to do on thursday" ring any bells? stop splitting hairs and come here.
and then there he was.
i was having a conversation with an old friend (about subway's gag-inducing stench) while i waited for him. when i looked up, there he was. my friend gauged the situation and politely made his exit. can i get my hug now? come get it. no, you come here. he smiled, rolled his eyes, gave me a hug. the first thing i noticed that i guess i really couldn't help is that he's leaner. he's gotten smaller. not too much but just enough to kind of boost his attractiveness a lot. i remember asking myself a few months ago, can this guy get any hotter? apparently the answer was yes. i died a little on the inside. before, when he was the hottest guy i knew, he was beyond reach. even in my wildest dreams, there was no way i could see... well, us. and now he's still the hottest guy i know but he's inexplicably become hotter.
this grad student decided at that moment, to eat her lunch under the staircase where we were sitting. every once in a while, she would shift her legs. bare, long, leggy. flip her hair. whatever. the point is she was really pretty. i lost my voice. we sat in awkward silence for a while. (sorry, ashley. i tried.) he tried to amuse me by telling me stories about his day. and then i had to go to class. i had a huge internal struggle. resisted the urge to sing should i stay or should i go. i joked, drily, can i have another hug? since i probably won't see you for another six months. why would you say that? he asked, before giving me a hug. the weird thing is that all of this made me feel horrible about myself. until later, when i asked, nervously, six months is... when? i would imagine tuesday or thursday is about six months.
my tail wagged.
the thing about puck is that he seems to realize that i'm quite unstable. or maybe just that i have no self-esteem. but he's still pretty considerate about it. and still doesn't mind hanging out with me. i wish i wasn't such a chicken, though.
either way, he put me in such a good mood that i went out on friday and got amazingly drunk with a guy who likes me whose friend also likes me. (because this is how i deal with good and bad moments in life. i intentionally make mistakes. do things i probably shouldn't because they're fun.) he left for a while and i was alone with a giant bottle of gin. i drank myself silly. called people to let them know how much i loved them. all was right with the world. the guy returned to find me, completely wasted and singing along to a mos def cd. he tried to get some, so to speak. i protested, babbled about how much i loved puck, and told him only puck would be able to do anything of the sort with me. eventually, i realized this guy was not concerned with my love life or the fact that i was not into doing anything with him. called another friend, who also likes me, and left. where i again began babbling about puck until i passed out. saturday, went to church, where i spent the entire day playing the piano and dreaming about puck. which brings us to today, where i am doing my homework so that when tuesday comes, i enough have free time for him.
life is better just knowing he's in existence, i suppose. it's not like he really did anything besides hug me. (although, to be honest, holding him is kind of a big deal.) he's like summer vacation, christmastime, and valentine's day all wrapped up in the fluffiest snow. i tell strangers about him. i tell people about him while i'm making out with them. i find excuses to bring him up in conversation. he's a six ounce bag of skittles with a bottle of vodka. all of that being said, i realize that if i do what i did six months ago (which was essentially nothing), then i'll stay here forever.
i need to do something. i'll figure it out. i've got no choice, really. but at this moment in time, i don't mind where i am.
honestly.
No comments:
Post a Comment