so many unfortunate thoughts right now, which is killing my super happy past two days. (no tears). spent an amazing day frolicking outside with two of my closest girl friends. one from school, one from hs, and we all had fun. nails done, check. 75 degree weather? check that too. then after a pizza feast, and homemade ice cream from the local creamery, i come home to check my email, and there it is: an email from the X...


Ok, so i originally thought that this diary of sorts would be for the enjoyment of life, and an outlet for overflowing thoughts that cloud my life. in my secret happy place, that would mean that i am above sad posts about an ex boyfriend. however, i am feeling that this email has gotten me really jazzed, and not in a good way, so i feel compelled to ponder it further here.
He casually suggested how he might consider moving to the city where i live. i understand that this is a fucking big city with many wonderful opportunities, but i didn't break up with you and then even for a second contemplate moving to your homestead. Also, what type of cocktease is it to tell me you need to be independent and devoid of a girlfriend, and that long distance doesn't work, and then move to where i live!! perhaps he won't ever even come here, but the mere thought of it makes me feel very very worthless and low. because unless he moves here and proclaims his undying love, i don't think there's room here for the two of us. in true bridget jones' fashion, i don't think ive ever been closer to my worse fear: becoming a faint resemblance to glenn close in fatal attraction.
why can't i just move to paris? at the very least, i could rely on delicious bread. screw that, delicious wine. speaking of which, if i wasn't so afraid of my little drunk dialing problem, i would make myself a martini.