I'm actually getting upset again thinking about tomorrow, and how I'll feel after tomorrow... Not because I'll feel worse about anything, but just because I won't feel better enough, and I'll have four days to deal with... And I feel kind of horrible, and not-okay morally even-- throwing myself at him like that and telling him I wanted to "tremble and scream in [his] Jag"... Which, omg, IS his car... Tuesday, before he told me he was not interested, that he would never, that I was dreaming, he had to admit I was right about the uncanny things I end up being right about, that I don't even give a second thought.... (and that are NEVER of any consequence either.)...
"God... I'm.. Sorry about that letter... That's totally not even your--"
"It's my car."
"Oh!" I laughed. "Obviously... It's so obvious."
"Right. ...I hate having a spot in front of the building; everyone in this neighborhood needs like, a Prius..."
"Its a hot car; I've been admiring it for ages, I knew it was yours..."
He shifted in his seat.
"So was I right about the birthday too?" I asked, half-joking.
"Oh, well, what did you give yourself there, a 5-month, 4-month range?"
"Well yeah, I said I'd wanna tack on August, but I really only-"
"-ANYWAY!" he said, actually cutting me OFF to change the subject. Wow. Obviously I nailed it.
June or July...
But what does it matter. My beautiful Julian. No more flirting. I was so wrong about so much for so long. And I still.