Hey guys... Just an fyi, my blog makes a lot more sense if you start reading it from the beginning.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

I went running four days this week

(That's not me in the pic, in case you're wondering.)

I'm not sure what motivated me.

Oh, wait, maybe it's the fact that Seth has a date with flippin' Teresa tonight.

I cried for an hour last Tuesday, realizing that it's never gonna happen. I already know that, but I can't seem to get my stupid heart to accept it. Then I realized how pathetic I was being, and said, you know what? Screw it.

I'm not gonna waste the rest of my life pining over him. I'm not. I'm going to get myself back in shape, focus on what's good in my life, do things I enjoy, and build a life thats not focused on him, or any guy.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

DUMB DUMB DUMB DUMB DUMB

Sometimes we’ll be talking late at night and he’ll look at me a certain way, and I’ll almost think he’s debating it in his mind, whether or not to give it a shot with me. But then the moment always passes.

If I'm honest with myself, I know I wouldn’t want that anyway.I don’t want him to have to think it over. I don’t want him to settle for me, just because we get along so well.

I want him to fall totally head over heels in love with me. Is that too much to ask?

But it's not gonna happen. It's not gonna happen. Why can't I get that and move on?

I've got to stop hanging out with him so much. Torturing myself like this is pointless.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

After I make him a truly awesome sandwich...

"I love you, you know that?"

Cue me, freezing. "Huh?"

"You're like the sister I never had."

"You have a sister."

"Well yeah, but she sucks."

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Totally great party last night

Except for that whole part where Seth completely ignored me for three hours because he was busy flirting with this new girl who's been hanging out with us, Teresa, who is annoying and shrill and idiotic. She's skinny and decent looking though, and I guess that's all it takes.

Do I sound bitter? Do I? That would make sense, since I am.

It was painful to watch. Not that I was watching. Because I wasn't. I was busy having a life and talking to other people.

Or at least I should have been.

My stomach hurts today.

Which I guess is good, because I'm never eating again. Never.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Why I Can't Resist Him

"Sing me a song," he says.

"No, that's embarrassing."

"Come on. Just one. Do the one from Les Mis where that girl dies."

"No, we're in the middle of the street, I'm not singing."

"I'll be the guy."

"You're tone deaf."

"Yeah, but I can make the sad face." He grins at me. "You know you love the sad face."

And so I do it - act out part of a musical on a Wednesday night in front of his parent's house.

I'm a nerd. But so is he, kind of.

If by nerd you mean the most incredibly awesome nerd ever.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

He kissed me once, but it was one of those heightened drama situations...

...and he took it back later. I don't know if you can really do that - take back the imprint you've made on someone else's heart, but it's impossible for me to be angry about it.

His little brother was in a car accident. I went to the hospital with Mel and Dave. The girl Seth was kinda sorta dating was already there in the waiting room. We waited around in the lobby and when he finally came down he told us that it looked like his brother would be o.k.

His eyes were so bloodshot. He looked awful. It was the first time I'd seen him look weak. He told everyone they should go, that it would be a long time before they knew anything else. He kissed his girlfriend of the week goodbye and she left. Dave and Mel and I started to go, but he grabbed my hand and asked me to stay for a minute. (As though he needed to ask.)

He pulled me down the hall into some random corridor and he told me with tears in his eyes that it was all his fault, he was supposed to get the brakes changed and he hadn’t. (And of course that had nothing to do with the accident, some guy ran a stop sign, that's all, but he wasn't thinking rationally. I guess if he'd been thinking rationally, the rest of it never would have happened.)

I hugged him and kept telling him it was going to be alright, and just like in the movies he started kissing my forehead, and then my cheek, and then everything got turned upside down because suddenly he was kissing me.

Is it horrible that it was the best couple of minutes of my life? It was the most romantic, dramatic thing that had ever happened to me. The guy I was totally in love with needed me to be there with him, nobody but me, and having it all end in a hot make-out session? Total dream come true.

After a few minutes he stopped, and he looked shocked by what he'd done, and he said, "Oh hell Cordy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

Can a heart shatter? Because mine felt like it did. I burst into tears, like he needed to deal with my drama right at that particular moment.

He kept telling me he was sorry, that he was just upset, he hadn't meant it, and he wasn't sure why he'd done it, but he was so, so sorry. After a second I tried to pull it together and I left.

His brother turned out to be o.k., more or less - a concussion and a broken arm and some bumps and bruises and one severe gash that they'd been worried about that night, but that was healing well.

Over the next few days, Seth kept telling me over and over again how sorry he was - in notes and phone calls and conversations where he kept telling me he hadn't meant it, and he was so sorry for crossing that line. "We're just friends," he kept reminding me.

Yes, I know. I know.

That was two years ago, and that was the only time he ever kissed me, but I can still feel exactly how it felt.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

We hung out last night...

He didn't have a date, and I didn't have a date (big surprise) and the group didn't get together, so the two of us walked around and around my neighborhood, talking and laughing and talking. For five hours. Five.

I'm really doing well at this whole creating separation thing, aren't I?

It's not my fault though - it's his. He's completely impossible to resist - funny, and kind, and smart, and awesome.

He's steady too - the kind of guy you call when you need a sofa moved, or you have a flat tire and forgot your jack, or get locked out of your house at 2 in the morning.

The thing is, if you walked into a party, you wouldn't pick him out as the cutest guy there. It's only after you know him for a while that you fall in love with him. Half the girls I know are or have been in love with him at one time or another. Eventually they all give up though, because clearly he's not ready to be serious with anyone.

That's not to say that he isn't cute. He is. He’s sort of tall (but not really tall - gee, that makes it so clear, doesn't it?) and lean but muscular, and he’s got kind of wavy light brown hair and these inquisitive hazel eyes that slay me, I’m not even kidding.

I love him. It's not a crush. I LOVE HIM.

ACK.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

I'm in love with my best friend...

...and it's a totally hopeless, unrequited case.

This blog exists because I need a place where I can talk about it - vent, cry and be totally unrealistic. (My friends are sick of hearing about it - they wanted me to move on approximately 700 years ago, but I just couldn't do it. My friend Melissa bought me that book, "He's just not that into you," and I was like, Mel, he's not into me at all, I'm not delusional.)

I know I probably shouldn't wallow, but I can't help it. Sometimes I just have to talk about all of the stupid little things that happen that make me think there might be hope, even though logically I know there's no hope. I know it. I know it.

Logically, I know if he had any romantic interest in me at all, I'd already know. He's not subtle or shy. He dates a lot. A lot. But on the other days of the week, when he isn't going out with a random supermodel type? He's with me. (He might date the models, but he can't live without me. That's something, but probably not enough.)

Now and then I'll try to create a little distance, try to regain my footing a little, but he always notices, and he doesn't understand. He says he misses me. He asks me what's wrong and comes over and wants to have long quiet talks about what's going on in my head. Because he has no idea.

It's not like I'm a total ogre. I'm 23. I'm blonde and I have green eyes. I'm a size twelve, which really isn't that fat, but apparently it's fat enough to ensure that nobody will ever think of me as anything other than a sidekick.

If I were fit, I think I'd be sort of cute. This one time I lost a bunch of weight and got down to a size six and half the guys at church fell in love with me, I'm not even kidding. It was the most exciting week of my life. Then I ate a sandwich and was right back into a twelve.

(OK, so maybe that happened over a period of months, but it felt like one day they were all interested, and the next day, zap, it was all gone.)

His name's Seth and he's 26. He's smart, and sweet, and steady, and he looks at me with those huge hazel eyes and I think, I will never get over you, never.

Someday he's going to get married and my heart will be totally broken, but on the other hand it will probably be the best thing that could happen, because I think that's the only way I'll ever get over it.

That's my story. Comments are always going to be closed, because I know everyone will want to say - come on, snap out of it - but I already know I should. I know that. But here on the blog I'm going to write the truth of it, the totality of all of my totally pathetic, hopeless feelings. If you promise not to judge me too harshly for failing to have a backbone, feel free to follow along.