pandalicious's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You're Just a Loser at the Carnival of Life, Dude Entry Deux:: There's this guy that used to email me. He found me on my webcam one night, sent me an ICQ message and said hello. We'd send each other lists of questions instead of real letters, in some kind of a game to get to the nitty gritty and sometimes strange stuff. All was going well for a couple of weeks. Then came Easter Sunday. He'd gone to dinner with his family. He came home. He got online. He told me that he'd been thinking of me all day long; that he was hands down, unquestionably MINE. WHOAAAAA!!! Freak me out much? I'd really only known him for a couple of weeks, only talked on the phone one time. Sure it was fun stuff, all of it, but I didn't see any EXTRA effort on his part. You know? I'd called him. He didn't call me. He didn't even offer to call me at another time. He wanted to come to Atlanta and cut my hair. I wanted a haircut. Free hair cut. Fun with internet boy. Right? But then, like I said, Easter came. As much as I was enjoying our emailing, etc... I was not ready to own someone so completely. Especially since I hadn't even read the inside flaps!!! You know you can't judge a book by its cover, you should at least check out the inside flappage and then flip through a few pages... right? So I told him that it freaked me out a bit. Then the distance spanned even further than the 500 miles that already rested between us. It was like the moment that the yo-yo begins its steady and fast descent. Still looped to your finger, but falling fast fast fast. It wasn't me. I wanted the emails still. I just requested the presence of rationality. Perhaps it was embarrassing for him to be forced to look at his emoting. I've been in situations where I've felt head over heels before. And just as fast. No matter how smitten, I've learned to keep it to myself and my dear close friends. So this fella is back around. He keeps making excuses for his sorry ass. He's been back online for at least 2 weeks now and every time I suggest that he could email me again he says Well, I JUST got back online. I tell him he could catch up with me fast by reading my diary here. He says maybe later. I tell him to feel free to send me snail mail. He never asks for the address. He asks for new photos of me. I provide. I ask for some of him, I get the "I told you, I JUST got back online" routine. His apathy is making me ill. He sits there on ICQ all day with his happy little FREE FOR CHAT button on and I wonder "how big a dork is this guy?" ..... You want the girl. You want the prize. You don't want to play the game to win the prize. You are content to find the lost and forgotten consolation prizes on the ground, instead of expending the effort to win something worth having. Something worth having in this carnival we call life. .... 15:33:15 - Eight O Four (pt 2) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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