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By Chrissy Date: 2002 Jul 08 Comment on this Work [[2002.07.08.21.29.31569]] |
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I get in line to order when I see him walk out of the back room. Maggie sees him too because her elbow has a "seizure" into my right side. I turn and she's smiling at me. Yea, I know, I like him. "You're real subtle, ya know that?" I say as she walks to the other end of the ice cream store giggling. "Can I help you?" I hear, and turn around. There he is. Tim. Bearing an uncanny resemblence to an ex-boyfriend of mine. "Uh...Mint Chip in a...umm...err..." Suddenly my mouth can't spit out the words 'sugar cone' and I try to demonstrate what the hell I'm talking about. Yet I probably look like a babbling fool. Or a miming one. Anyway, I get my cone and he asks "Anything else?" And I say "How about your number?" Right. Of course I say that, because I suddenly shed my bumbling, babbling, miming self and find confidence in the sugar cone that I take from his hand. No instead I shake my head, pay my fee, and walk out. "Dude, how much guts would it take for me to go back in there and give him my number?" "A lot" Maggie replies, with a mouthful of softserve. Yea that's what I thought. A small sigh and another lick of ice cream provides temporary comfort as we continue down the block towards the car. My hand reaches in my bag for my cell phone and I instinctively start to dial Kyle's number. Kyle. My boyfriend. The two thoughts come together from opposite sides and explode in the middle of my brain as I stop walking down the street. Kyle, my boyfriend. I've done it. I knew it would happen. It always does. It just took longer than I thought. Maggie reaffirms my belief that we have ESP because as the explosion in my head is settling I hear her say "But Amanda, you already have a boyfriend, so why does it matter?" I'm not quite sure. It's a question I've spent hours pondering. Not even -- more like mulling. Chewing. This question and I are so familiar with each other that I could tell you what color underwear it is wearing...that is, if questions wore underwear. So why do I do this? I've been told before that I AM the downfall to my own relationships. It makes it a little harder to enjoy when you know that eventually you'll be the one screwing up, not him. And it's only a matter of time. It's happened without fail. Maybe I'm not made out to have a relationship. Countless one night stands(or months, in my case) for the rest of my life, all to become one big giant blurred face that will be stored in a file cabinet under the heading of "Ooo! That's what's-his-face!" in the "Long Term Memory" drawer. I've ALSO been told that I just use guys, leaving them after they lost their appeal. I want them until I get them, and then lose them once I have them. A sad, sad thought. I want a relationship. More than anyone can imagine. One that can last more than a few months. Maybe about a year or so, like my friends have. But instead I'm stuck in this blasted circle of hurt and nameless faces. Don't get me wrong. This doesn't mean my feelings for Kyle are any less than when we started dating. I just...seem to get ice cream really, really often. Now, sitting on my bed...again mulling and chewing...I wonder if I'm the only one who this ever happens to. How does this get fixed? Blah. That's all I can think of now...blah. Oh...and SIGH. |