justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - She was there. She walked in and my stomach did the shuffle and my hands suddenly started shaking like the rapture was here. All this time, and she still makes it hard for me to breathe. What is she doing here? She was there, and she's not supposed to be there. She's supposed to be anywhere but there, and she's supposed to be mean to me, but she wasn't. She was cool. She hung out with me and she laughed at my jokes. She's still smart and funny and beautiful. Shes attending class now. It had to hit rock bottom eventually, I knew. I told her it made me really happy to see her giving a shit about something, and I really wasn't lying. She rolled her eyes. They're as pretty as I remember. She didn't flinch when I touched her. She was nice to me. She was being down on herself, and I told her to stop it. You're the last person who should be defending me, her face said. But I could tell she didn't feel half as beautiful as she is. None of them do. "Don't put yourself down, Emma." "And why not?" "You're the most amazing person, Emma. I think of you all the time. You are beautiful. You are smart. You are better than that kind of talk. And you were the only girl to ever treat me well. Don't think I don't know that." or something along those lines. She said to me, "I didn't treat you well, Nick." I said she did, and she repeated herself several times. She keeps saying the right things. Besides, I'm mature enough to know that it was every bit as much me as her. I'm too clingy and shit. Coat check line is long, and I wait with her. We have fun. It kills me a little. I can't stop staring at her tongue. We go over to the other bar, and she doesn't mind when I make jokes that don't have a punch line. Matt is telling me, rightly, "Bad medicine." "last time you saw me," she says, "you weren't that happy to see me." (I wrote about that night some entries back) "I was fucked up. I've never really had feelings as intense as I did for you. It was hard. Still is." I know I'm supposed to play it cool, but I've never had the patience to play the game. If I like a girl, I tell her. When we're leaving, she's invited me to come out tomorrow night. She's drunk, I'm afraid she won't mean it tomorrow. This was nice, I say, I liked hanging out with you. Me too. I'd like to see you again, would that be a bad idea? No, it wouldn't be a bad idea. Do you still have my number? Yes. OK, give me a call. But you don't have mine. (I pause) You want to give me your number? She does. BAD MEDICINE But I look at her, and all I see is desire. If Matt wasn't there, she might have let me kiss her goodbye. But what's the point? BAD MEDICINE. Jesus. Ugh. I don't know what to think. I still have feelings for her, and I had fun, and that should be enough. But she flaked out last time. And she was drunk. What if she regrets giving me her number? I wish I was a normal guy, so I could just play it cool. Sorry for the rant. 3:48 a.m. - 2009-02-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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