preemptive, much?
coffee boy sent me a letter. I saw a book-shaped package in my mailbox, and tried to remember if I had ordered anything used off amazon lately at first; I often do and then forget about it. But then I saw his last name as the return address. I thought it was silly; he didn't have to mail my book back, I'd see him...then I thought.
The last time I received a breakup letter was in high school, from Crazy Irish Boy. He made me sit through a ten hour Monty Python marathon. He got completely lost in the heavily forested back roads until I became quite nervous and then pulled over to explain that he didn't believe in premarital sex. I only ever beat him at chess once, at his graduation party. Made me see Braveheart in the theatre. Came into the Hallmark store where I worked and moved all the cards into the wrong slots, as I chased him down, repairing the wreakage in his wake. That was the day I dumped him for good. He was going away to college; it felt like the rightest thing to do. A few days later, I got 14 pages of notebook paper, double-sided, full of quotes and song lyrics, and I wish I hadn't thrown it away.
I was right; I am too often about predicting things. Coffee boy said that I think he's stupid, which is NOT true (cf. May 2&3). He says I'm not emotionally invested; that was part of Marlon's problem too. I can't really afford to be with grad school looming, and BOTH of our days in Massachussetts were quite up-frontedly numbered. He said I was physically distant, like I didn't like to kiss him. If I was awkward with physicality, it's only because he's slept in my bed FOUR TIMES and HASN't even TRIED to fuck me! He hasn't even gone for my tits yet...that can do things to a girl's psyche, in the "physical" department. Kissing for kissing's sake is all fine and good when you're, tewlve, it was like this stupid high school thing, or else skipping over all the good stuff straight to middle-aged coupledom. If I haven't written about him the past month, it's cuz I haven't seen a way to get around that factoid. Jennie's all, he should put out or get out. Apparently, he wants out...what the FUCK is that about? Oh, yeah, and he say that he's too broke to drive to Boston to see me-that's just a cop out.
I need to respond to this; I should just send him here.
The last time I received a breakup letter was in high school, from Crazy Irish Boy. He made me sit through a ten hour Monty Python marathon. He got completely lost in the heavily forested back roads until I became quite nervous and then pulled over to explain that he didn't believe in premarital sex. I only ever beat him at chess once, at his graduation party. Made me see Braveheart in the theatre. Came into the Hallmark store where I worked and moved all the cards into the wrong slots, as I chased him down, repairing the wreakage in his wake. That was the day I dumped him for good. He was going away to college; it felt like the rightest thing to do. A few days later, I got 14 pages of notebook paper, double-sided, full of quotes and song lyrics, and I wish I hadn't thrown it away.
I was right; I am too often about predicting things. Coffee boy said that I think he's stupid, which is NOT true (cf. May 2&3). He says I'm not emotionally invested; that was part of Marlon's problem too. I can't really afford to be with grad school looming, and BOTH of our days in Massachussetts were quite up-frontedly numbered. He said I was physically distant, like I didn't like to kiss him. If I was awkward with physicality, it's only because he's slept in my bed FOUR TIMES and HASN't even TRIED to fuck me! He hasn't even gone for my tits yet...that can do things to a girl's psyche, in the "physical" department. Kissing for kissing's sake is all fine and good when you're, tewlve, it was like this stupid high school thing, or else skipping over all the good stuff straight to middle-aged coupledom. If I haven't written about him the past month, it's cuz I haven't seen a way to get around that factoid. Jennie's all, he should put out or get out. Apparently, he wants out...what the FUCK is that about? Oh, yeah, and he say that he's too broke to drive to Boston to see me-that's just a cop out.
I need to respond to this; I should just send him here.