Sadie
Crazy Amy moved out of apartment 25 and in her place moved a young lady named Sadie. She opened her door as Coconut and I came back from another jaunt and we talked in her doorway for about ten minutes before I invited her up to my place. Hers was empty and all full of boxes as she was already flying the coop. I'd hardly met her. Not that anything more would have come from knowing my neighbor, but I'd try and find out. I flirted with her for hours in my self conscious way, even checking her arm for "bed bug bumps", wondering how to turn no into yes and if that was okay. See, I believe she led me on to a degree when she told me, "I sort of have a boyfriend... who doesn't appreciate me..." and this while she spends the evening with me, willing and ready to appreciate her while reserving the presumption that she would be a slut. After all, she was leaving on Tuesday. I would reason to say that one could justify a departure fling. What's that you say? I'm such a guy, eh? Well, I am. A good one at that. Still, I am aware of how girls discreetly categorize guys as eligible or creepy so easily and the liberties wished upon the former are guarded and shunned from the latter. The distinction made evades me, but just like I've always wished to be a true musician more than to be recognized as one do I aspire to not be a creep. I think that pledge alone, an honest one, is enough to assure myself that I'm not like the creepy weirdos I've known to not have much of a moral sensibility. The bottom line is, I'm a good guy. I'm not necessarily a nice guy, or the right guy, but I can't be as wrong as I've felt. Two weeks ago I failed to make a move on Brittany. I am afraid that history tends to repeat itself. I'm certainly glad I didn't say anything then. There are still seven weeks before she leaves. As for Sadie, that would make two rejections from the same apartment, neither of which really broke my heart. It's all this godamned nobody that's breaking my fucking heart.