One Day A Lemming Will Fly
I am weak. You know the guy I said I was trying to get over? Well today, on an impulse, I did the exact thing I had told myself I would stop doing. I texted him and asked if he wanted to hang out. WTF IS WRONG WITH ME??? To my shock, he said ‘okay.’ We went to study at a coffee shop, and it was fun. Nothing happened, of course, but I wasn’t expecting it to. Actually, by the time I got to the coffee shop I was so mortified by my lack of self control I wasn’t even in the mood to be flirty.
I’m not stupid (or so I tell myself increasingly desperately). I know I’m still attracted to him, but I thought I had made up my mind not to pursue him anymore! I’m almost completely certain he’s not interested in me, and for the three or four very good reasons I mentioned in earlier posts, I know he’s not really the guy for me. I’m setting myself up to get hurt. I know it, and I can’t seem to stop it. It’s those stupid hormones again, I know it. No wonder lemmings jump off cliffs. They probably don’t really want to, but when the compulsion strikes they probably jump without even meaning to. I feel like a freakin’ lemming.
