like a mixture of a certain wilco song and the stock market trend

i had the most smashing day.
i finished my last final, and spent the rest of the day with two of the most wonderful people on this earth. went shopping, had teriyaki, listened to our own music lying down in the windy park, red robin, swing dancing, and applebee's.
i love you two. you made my entire day.

i can't tell whether this day ended on a weird note, like an a#, or maybe a creepy sounding minor tri-chord, but it did. at the gathering after dancing, no less; why do things like this happen there? why do i let them bother me?

the Theory is totally in effect, here. you seem to be an ever-, if not constant, presence in my life. i cannot distance myself from you unless i give up three-quarters of my social life. you keep touching me, and i don't know if you just mean it in a hey-there-chum kind of way, but just STOP IT. stop touching my shoulders, stop touching the back of my neck.

you never even touched her. you only knew her for a few days before you and her were put in a situation where you would see each other every day. you got yourself into that situation. a tiny speck of me felt sorry for you; the rest of me couldn't help laughing/chastising/well-he-did-that-to-himself-ing you. and you did.

a wise person told me recently that while you might have a head start on me in human years, your maturity is just catching up to my own age. i think she was right. i think you're a pig. you're an asshole.

(as an aside, seeking nice, semi-bearded indie guy with broad shoulders. must love music, quirky movies, and just sitting in parks. the ability to dance as a talent is debatable, as most of the guys that i know who do dance well don't do so well in the personality department.)

i keep berating myself, silently and not-so-silently, for still being fucking attracted to you. for not being over you. another wise person told me that i shouldn't: it's not that easy to just say, "oh, well i let myself feel that way" and be done with it. not when you're there.

i bought nectarine mint hand sanitizer and kept putting some on today, because it smelled so good.
i danced with you once, and now, every time i brush my hair away from my eyes (or these goddamn tears), i smell you. i can't get it off of me. get it off of me. 

i found that insect again, this morning in the bathroom. i was braver and took less time to confront it, but it eluded my attacks once again. (symbolic foreshadowing in my own life; the good Lord above indeed created Hemingway.) you are that damn insect: i saw you on the lampshade on my way in and hoped that  you wouldn't get too close, because i know how these encounters always end. yet you somehow managed to fly in under my closed bedroom door, and make a racket fluttering your papery wings wildly near the ceiling. you settled on my bed and hid away for a while. when i found you, i took the longest time gathering up courage just to smash you. when i finally tried, you crawled away ever so nonchalantly and hid behind my bedpost, threatening to poison my rest with thoughts of you crawling beneath my sheets and over my skin. you disappeared again; and i didn't worry. and when i finally saw you again, you escaped--again. you will probably show up--again. 

but you are more than a mere nuisance to me. must you haunt me everywhere i go, now??? were you that a momentous an occasion in my infant of a romantic life? will you never be removed from my thoughts?!?!? LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

how will i ever stop thinking about you when all i can see is your face, all i can hear in every song is a lindy count, and all i can smell on my hands is the scent of yours?

-d