::A post from like amonthandahalf ago that helps explain the lead up to the latest ridiculousness. I’m not sure what to call this homedude so, for this post, i just called him “him”::
Because, of course, I’m 300% in denial until we’re out of physical contact that there is a 100% chance he’s interested in me.
I mean, lovey joked the last time I was over at her house “so no boys are in love with you right now?” and he’s not in love with me but, yeah, usually there is someone kinda interested or at least keeping things interesting and sometimes I really wonder what kind of example i’m setting and why there can so frequently be boys in love with me but i’m not married and then i remember that, duh, i keep running them out of the city (state, country, whatever).
SO BACK to the sitch. Okay, we spent last night hanging out and that was fun but, I had had a VERY hard week, so when he said he wanted to hang out I said okay… but I did sort of set him up for “you have to be really emotionally supportive because i’m about to break.” So I figured he wasn’t suddenly turning into the most charming man, but just minding his p’s an q’s to keep me happy because, who wants to be cried at? no one, that’s who.
And BESIDES he couldn’t possibly be interested because what did he choose to do together? His laundry. And yeah while his laundry was getting done (he lives in a hotel because he’s an engineer and I’m sure he’s explained it but literally EVERY city he talks about is the same city in my brain (despite that one is in louisiana and one is in canada) so, ya know, I don’t really understand but he lives in a hotel so he has laundry to do and technically he could have done it for free where he was staying in Austin (with another friend) but…. acutally i’m not sure why he wanted to do it at my place. Maybe because I have a guitar and maybe his other friend doesnt because he played my guitar most of the time he was over. Well, that’s not true. he played it for 10 minutes then i made him move things because he’s one foot (okay. 8 inches) taller than I am and the things were up high. Then he tried to play again but got distracted by the fact that I strung it wrong and then restrung it (because I have guitar strings around). Then once that was done, which took a while because BELIEVE-YOU-ME this man wasn’t going to do a sub-par job after chiding me for a month about stringing things. Except my wire cutters didn’t work so NOW i have this GIANT TARANTULA LOOKING TOP OF MY GUITAR because of all the strings poking off. We were supposed to buy new wire cutters at walmart, but we got distracted by velvet coloring sheets. (be jealous)
what was the point?
So while he was over it’s not like he was trying to win me over. He did his laundry, CLIPPED HIS TOENAILS (OHMYGOSH IS THIS WHAT IT’S LIKE WHEN BOYS ARE AROUND?!) and then helped me do everything I’m not tall enough to do.
So even with everything that just-so-happened to have happened that night, there’s still nothing to think about anything, right? Until….
Well basically until he leaves town and texts me to say we need to talk about “us.” And then I have a seizure on the couch while I say “okay, we can talk.” except really I am thinking “what on earth is “us”?!”