“You and me… we don’t really do so well when we’re apart.”
Miles Wilson, page 124.
Okay, so I’m back to reading those “Love Stories” that I read in high school and middle school. I read one yesterday (my favorite one) and I just read “A Kiss Between Friends,” which is interesting because they don’t kiss till the end of the book. My conclusion at the end of the book? Love doesn’t happen that way.
Why am I all bent out of shape over this issue lately? Is it because I think Linus likes someone? I’ve liked Linus for so long (well, on and off). The truth is… maybe I was never actually interested in the real "Linus.” I think that’s always been the case. The interest is not actually in the real guy, the real person with the flesh and bones and blood running through his veins. There never was a real interest. The guy never existed. Only in my imagination. The person I was interested in wasn’t the one I saw from time to time… but the person who I imagined him to be. I do this all the time. I pick a guy who I think would be a great boyfriend and imagine what kind of guy he is what kind of boyfriend he is. But that’s not who HE really is. Face it. The reality is Linus would never be interested in me.
When I get this worked up, you know I can’t sleep. And lately I don’t feel like “writing” but typing sounds good to me. I like the sound of keys clacking late at night. Maybe that’s why there’s a writer deep inside of me, waiting to break out.