Why do my social skills fly out the window whenever I’m in the presence of my, ahem, crush. I avert my eyes. I stammer. And I can’t wait to run away screaming.
And when he’s not around I keep pining like a pathetic teenager–our great love affair flashing before my eyes in high definition video, surround sound, and with such astounding vividness that jeepney drivers, my review seatmates, and random pedestrians stop in their tracks, entranced by the sheer magnitude of my telepathic broadcasting (Translation: I sometimes “act out” my fantasies in public. Unconsciously, of course. “Acting out” one’s fantasy by oneself in public is visually similar to an insane person mumbling by his lonesome. Hence, people stare.). If I’m not pining for him, I’m plotting the painful demise of his feeling pretty, tweety-bird looking girlfriend. What a total whore! Like, hellooooo! Just because your skanky fat ass wears glasses doesn’t mean that anyone’s convinced that you’re anything more than a bottom licking skank bag.
And I am so totally waaaaaay prettier than her. according to my friends. hahaha.
—–
I did ask him out. Several weeks ago. It wasn’t a “Let’s go out on a date and have sex after” ask out but more of a “hey, let me show you around” ask out. He said no. Because he has something as trivial as a review the next day. **eye roll**
Being the hystrionic that I am, I interpreted it as a snub and planned to ignore him the next day because, well, um, he needs to work for my forgiveness.
And I did ignore him. For a day.
And now, a few weeks later, we barely say hi to each other anymore and the former ease and comfort that we had is gone and is replaced by this overwhelming embarassment that rises from my stomach and fills my whole being.
Bummer.
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