Love hurts...

October 28, 2001

This one is a doozy...

So I saw her at the school pool hall. She had a bob and a white dress. A beautiful woman, as cute as a pixie (although she'd never stand for that description, I'm sure).

When she told me to not to sit on the pool table over the intercom, I knew we were destined to meet again.

I got a job at the convenience store because, well, because I had too much time and nothing to do. Shitty pay, but hey, at least I'm around people. I worked there for about a month, and then, oh shit! she was there working behind the counter too.

I nervously struck up a conversation, and we became fast friends. I felt like someone struck a happy-spike into my frontal lobe. I spent so much, perhaps too much, time with her.

Like being too chicken to tell her my feelings, so I left a note for her at work.

Or trying to outdrink her vodka shot after shot, then spending the rest of the night throwing up in the toilet, proclaiming my eternal love for her. Of course, I would remember that, and nothing else.

Or throwing a fit when she didn't feel the same about me, and refusing to talk to her anymore.

Our friendship went downhill from there, and it never quite recovered. We stayed in touch for a little while, and then, no more.

I don't regret acting like a total choad, nor stupidly proclaiming my undying devotion almost every chance I could get (that, at least, was honest, and true).

I regret losing a great friend.

I'm sorry.