vinylgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- dress rehearsal You found me out like a Russian spy. So why not play the hypothetical and tell you all the things I need to say. When Dave asked me if I would ever consider going out with you I laughed and asked what motivated the question. We never talked last year and I can't remember your face at the Christmas or Year-end dinners. But somehow, in the summer haze of relationships ended and those unfulfilling, I looked up your face in the photo and wondered. Flash forward. Now we talk all the time, both in and out of the office. You make me laugh and that is an incredible gift. I think we both know that I like you. But to be honest about it, how can I really like you � I barely know the synopsis. So I guess you could say I am interested in you, or that you interest me. [And here is the part where all my insecurities become one phrase: "you don't have to say anything and in fact I would prefer it if you didn't"] I just wanted you to know, either way, so I can go on with my life. (Not to say you have stopped my life�re: heart�but rather so I can move on). Now this is where you see the girl walking down the steps and home alone. The boy doesn't chase after her, he doesn't call or confess his love, and he just fades. She will try to pack all the memories in her mind into a box, mark it Crush #7 and file it away amongst the others. It will take a lot of willpower not to go and open that box and relive the memories. But they will mean nothing in a few weeks when the world has turned 45 degrees and everything looks slightly different. Just one question though: who decides who is fit to love? and a follow-up: when is it my turn? Love Allison 1:39 a.m. - 01/02/1970 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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