daydream disbeliever

All is Quiet on the Appalachian Front?

September 5 or 6 (hell, I don't know which one it is).

I really believe I am over the Moronic Marvel. He's
been the main cause of my grief this summer. That and my
sucky job. However, if I could truly report how I feel
about him if I ever saw him again and had the chance to
tell him just how I feel about his sadistic highjinks.
However, I will NEVER tell him that I was in love with
him. Since he never exactly told me the true reasons why
he broke up with me in the first place, or why he tried to
get back in my life and then cruelly rebuffed me, I suppose
I'll never know for sure. There are just too many What-ifs
floating around my fragile little mind. Oh, Brian. What
wouldn't I give to know the answers.
He wasn't even man enough to tell me anything. He
seems to only be about emotional fuckwittage. Although he
is pretty Holden Caulfield-esque, so it's not as if he's a
pillar of sanity. It's just that there were so many good
things about Brian, and I honestly believed that the
positive aspects of his personality outweighed the asshole
maleness of him. After all, it was his mind, sense of
humour, and generosity that I fell in love with. His looks
were just kind of a bonus. What's funny is that I didn't
even think he was good looking until I'd known him for a
long time. When I introduced him to kith and kin, they
thought he was, to quote my teeny-bopper sister, "hot on
the spot". Heh.
I wonder if he ever thinks of me. I don't dwell on
him nearly as much as I did, say, in July. Work, despite
all of its rigorous tortures of the damned, has actually
helped my melancholy situation. I'm always so busy that I
don't have any time to think about Brian. It's the only
positive aspect of Wal-Mart that I can think of at the
moment.
Until tomorrow or next month or two hours from now, I
remain the ever pathetic

K.E.