I guess one way to start feeling better is realizing that he wasn’t that good a catch after all.

But frankly, it’s more like “convincing”.

I miss D [:cry:] and it’s a struggle deflecting the urge to e-mail him. Resist resist resist: that’s my new mantra; must stick to it. We were texting each other yesterday afternoon— and like all conversations we’ve had these past two weeks, that didn’t turn out well, too.

Did you say “no, this can’t happen to me”?  Did you rush to the phone and call? Was there a voice unkind in the back of your mind, saying maybe you didn’t know him at all?

I told him: I’m just realizing how stupid I was, but whatever. It’s sad because we used to be so happy before.

His reply: Before what?

Why can’t we overcome this wall? Well, maybe it’s just because I didn’t know you at all.

SO ANYWAY. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had The Last Goodbye and Your Woman on repeat (though sometimes, I squeeze in Meryn Cadell’s The Sweater and Bree Sharp’s David Duchovny) for two nights now that’s prompted Alon to play matchmaker.

We were sitting out on the hallway last night, just chatting and smoking, when he threw me a “funny question” (his words): out of the five Frenchies, who did I like? Basically, he’s trying to set me up with one of his French friends, to take my mind off of D. :blush:

I went ahead and said that I find Tibo cute. Except he’s heading back to France on the 18th and might be back April next year. Not a big deal, I just think he’s a cutie? Alon was building up his other friend, Clem, who’s staying longer but who I find merely ‘okay’. Alon had this goofy smile on and his phone was out: “I’m SERIOUSLY going to text Tibo!” Eep. I said I’d think about it.

I swore I’d go on a rhum-coke and antacid diet this week, but chocolate chip cookies and Sausage McMuffin meals are just too goddamn enticing.