I had another mini-flashback this morning. In case you don't know, I tend to suffer from these small, abrupt flashbacks, usually stemming from really emotional moments I've had. But this one was somewhat startling, mainly because it involved someone who I really like, but have been really confused about. It's a long and complicated story, but, in essense, I can't decide whether I should "let him go/forget about him" or keep him in mind and continue to like him.
This dilemma developed after he decided he couldn't be in a relationship quite yet after a pretty messy break-up, from what I can gather. However, I often get pissed because he's ditched me on several occasions to hang out, hasn't paid me back the money I lent him, and hardly ever responds to any message I send him, be it on AIM or Facebook (I guess I can understand the last one, but, come on, he borrowed $25 from me two months ago and hasn't paid me back even a cent.)
But recently I fucked things up. A few nights ago I had a few too many beers, and I think I might have blacked out for the first time. From what I can tell, I sent some angry instant messages to him, basically saying, "Since you aren't replying to these [obviously catty] messages then I guess that means you're trying to ignore me" yadda yadda yadda. He sent an im the next day reading, "wow ok", and that's when I discovered the big fuck-up. I frantically sent him back messages saying, "fuck, I don't even remember sending those, I'm sooooo sorry I don't really mean that", etc. He just responded, "ok." Of course, it's a pretty ambiguous response, and tone is so hard to read via AI fucking M. I asked him what he meant, but he still hasn't responded.
Anyway, back to this morning's flashback. So I'm feeling pretty shitty, like most mornings. And then I had a flashback from the time we first met. We were at this party in Roger's Park, sometime this past December. We went outside and sat on the wooden staircase coming down from the deck outside this apartment. It was nighttime, of course, and it was snowing. We're both a little drunk, but sober or not, I gotta say it was a pretty magical setting. We started on this deep conversation, one mostly brought about by him. He was talking about how he has a fear of a flying. I distinctly recalled this portion of the conversation:
Him: What are you afraid of?
Me: I don't know... maybe... not being liked.
Him: Well, I like you.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. It sounded like something straight from a John Hughes film, which is what we were gushing about earlier that night, and how we "connected", I suppose. I thought about how it go to this point: how we went from this happy little place to him thinking I'm a total psycho. I guess he has a right to think so, I mean, those messages did make me look like a crazy person. But right now I'm just hoping to move on, see what else is out there.
If any of you have read up to this point, I say to you, in the words of Samantha Baker in Sixteen Candles: "It's really human of you to listen to all my bullshit."
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