english

I remember the first day that the blond brought him into my field of view....I felt it then, I feel it now.

I love the ging, but there is something unfinished between me and English. I flirt shamelessly and the fact of the matter is that his company makes my stomach squirm.

I don't know if he feels it too....I sometimes wonder if his bitterness has something to do with me. But sometimes when we talk I feel that connection and I always leave wishing for more.

It's pathetic, I know. It's not like I didn't have my chance (and screwed it up). It's not like I would jeopardize what I have now. But every time I am with him, I wish that I could be single for just a little while so I could be with him.

Instead I enjoy the patio beers and pretend that I'm not hoping he'll show up when I call my other patio pal.

I wonder if it would help if we talked about it.