Barackoburgers

Okay, so I'm bad with commitment. I actually won 2nd in a district chess meet when I was in sixth grade, though, so I think that makes up for it.  I'm sure you see my logic.

I was standing in the middle of a field with five other brothers and sisters, all of us with a heavy ball in our hand.  We were playing bocce, see?  It's a game of immense skill requiring rapid reflexes compounded with agility, strength, speed, and dexterity.  Of course, it turns out I'm a skull-crusher when points are concerned.  The good Lord has gifted me with a talent - (insert joke about ''ball handling'' or ''playing with my balls'' here) - and I'll be damned if I don't use it!

Whilst playing this fabulous game, however, we met a guy named Leaf.  What the fuck kind of name is Leaf, by the way?  This guy, he seemed drunk or high or crizacked out or what have you, but we invited him to play some rounds with us, and he'd just use his frisbee instead of a bocce ball.  It was pretty good, aside from some failed co-op juggling attempts with Mikey...  Oh, and once, when we finally got out of that field and into some shade, Leaf says, "Ready?" and grins real big, and then flings the jack right back into the same damn field.  But he was cool, and he wasn't too bad with his frisbee, either.  And need I mention that Jared and I (we were on teams) totally took first?  No, I didn't really think so either.

It's pretty late out right now, and there's a thunderstorm outside.  Oh and hey, I had an interview at The Bijou on Saturday.  It went pretty well and I'm hoping to hear from them by Tuesday.  I'm feeling pretty confident about it, but I'll put a post up as soon as I hear something.

I'm sleepy, and I'm gonna doze off with a PS2 controller in my hand...

It's a laugh. It's a devil.

Oh blog, how I've missed your understanding text box, letting me type any and all of everything.  Your sweet, sweet picture import options and beautiful font selection speaks to the very core of me.  I am in love with you, Blog.  I want to serenade you with my songs of love and expression whilst slipping it in to you, riding my mount home to your sexy stables of seduction and HTML editing.

So yes, let this be an informal apology for being away for a month and a half.  It's been an awful month and a half, if that makes you feel any better.  I guess a shortened summary should do, so I'll give that a try:  

I am no longer dating my ex (ooh, that's weird) boyfriend Aaron.  We had decided to give it a two week break, and the next time we met would be for bagels.  Fast forward to Bagel Day.  Now, I know this is a summary, but I have to express how much I love bagels.  And what's more lovable than a bagel?  A bagel sandwich, brother.  A properly made bagel sandwich is the bane of my very existence.  

So yeah, back on track: I have a fantastic bagel sandwich that included avocado and turkey and cream cheese, and afterwards we stroll to the nearby park.  It was sunny with a high of 75, and the maple trees and huge weeping willow reinforced the feeling of summer with their color and their smells and their dark shadows cast against the grass.

And so, yeah, it was there that we decided not to remain a couple.  He got scared, he told me, and thought that we'd be happier like this.  But I'm a stubborn, realistic guy who likes to have the facts when it comes to important shit like this, so I fought it.  I mean, there wasn't much fighting I could do, but I tried to get answers out of him.  He wanted to know what I was looking to hear, but I didn't have any stipulations, I just wanted to hear him talk..  

The lights in my Aaron Room were quickly fading and I needed to keep looking at him, listening to him, archiving and chronicling everything I loved about him before his face was too dim and his voice too quiet.  And suddenly, signaled by a wretched twist in my stomach and the wavy impression tears can give, that light was switched off.  I sat there in the park, next to this stranger, and had a distinct disconnect.  Wherever all of the little tiny IBM servers are stored in my brain, maintaining and processing and recording all of me, a single cord must have been unplugged.

Fast forward again, and now it's Monday, June 16th.  Aaron's birthday was four days ago.  He was leaving the day after his birthday for the summer to go back home, and so he called and said he wanted to stop by and get some of his things.  He picked them up and stayed for a bit, and we talked about movies and music and the typical topics that less-than-best-friends have.

He starts to leave and I follow him outside.  I shut the door behind me and we're standing awful close to one another.  I'm looking at him, trying to read his thoughts and communicate to him that I still love him without actually vocalizing it.  And then he leans in.  I act accordingly, but when our lips meet, he pulls me toward him.  I slip my arm around his waist, confused but intrigued at what's going on. 

It's a long time that we stood there, leaning on each other, embracing, kissing.. And I hated him.  And I loved him.  And I hated him again, for all of this.  But his face was moving, talking now, suggesting we have sex in his mom's car.  In a blind stupor I follow and we do, and it's great.  I slip my pants back on and I get out of the vehicle with beads of sweat on my forehead, and we say our goodbyes and he hops in the driver seat and shuts the door.

I walked to the front of the house, near our kissing crime scene, and I stand and wait for him to drive down the street.  I don't know why I do stuff like that, but I assume it's something to do with chivalry and the fact that I perhaps wanted to air out myself so I didn't smell too much like buttsex when I went inside to Jared.   Aaron starts up the car and drives off, and I wave to him.  

And I hate him.  And I love him.  And I think about how we'll turn out, and who we'll turn out with.

This is definitely not a short summary, is it?  It doesn't look like it.  Sorry about that, Bloggy, but now that I'll hopefully be around more regularly, you've got nothing to worry about - I'll have plenty of time to update you about what I had for breakfast and how many grams of pot we can manage to smoke in one day.  Seriously, I'll keep you abreast of the news.  I'll keep you abreast.  I'll keep abreast.  Abreast.  

Tits.